


Seven Minutes

by quotationmarks



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), Little Mix (Band), One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: (they have watches that tell how far away they are and how long they have left alive), 17 year old louis, 23 year old Harry, AND SOULMATES EVERYONE KNOWS THEY HAVE A SOULMATE, Bottom Louis, Chapters are kinda short for AO3 standards, Death, Element control, Gang affiliation, Gangs, I don't know what I'm doing, Louis/Niall/Jesy friendship, M/M, Mpreg, OH YEAH THERES ELEMENTAL CONTROL, Scared Louis, THEY CAN CONTROL THE ELEMENTS, This is prob crap but o well, Top Harry, WITH THEIR MINDS, but no major characters, but not too much, dang how many tags can I put, elemental control, last minute mpreg, liam is a doctor!!!!!, lightly mentioned Niall/Josh, lots of danger and suspense, lots of death, really protective harry, soulmate, takes place is a lot of different places, the chapters spell out soulmate btw, the more you know, there's a lot going on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:18:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 71,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4300992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quotationmarks/pseuds/quotationmarks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With his water and wind abilities, Louis is a normal High School student, albeit his powers are a little - a lot - more powerful than the other student's. When he runs into his dangerous, predestined soulmate, his life gets twisted in ways he never imagined...</p>
<p>He has to save him, but he only has Seven Minutes...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. soulie

story: seven minutes

part: one // soulie

____________

"What the hell is wrong with you?," Louis laughs, watching in amusement and slight concern as Niall nearly breaks his back trying to catch Cheeze-Its in his mouth.

Niall shrieks as he finally does, flipping Louis off in celebration, chewing the lone Cheeze-It, ignoring the rest that have landed around him like petals off a flower. The blonde boy flops on the ground, dramatically sinking in the dirt. Louis scowls at him and throws another cheese cracker at him.

"Imagine what shape this earth would be in if every earthier was as inconsiderate as you," Louis sasses, putting a cracker in his mouth. Niall rolls his eyes and barely lifts a finger, causing the sunk in earth to escalate upwards.

Louis scoffs and sets the red box of crackers on the ground beside the bench, collapsing and sprawling across the grass. Such a lovely day, today is, Louis notes, lifting a hand. With his left, he expertly creates a breeze, and with the other, he sucks a few strands of grass of their water, leaving them a dead brown.

Jesy sighs beside him and he turns to look at her, also focused on not letting the water fall on them. It's happened and it'll happen. "I wish I had an ability like you guys," Jesy says without being asked. Louis bites the inside of his cheek and lets one arm down, abruptly stopping the breeze, using the other to return the water to the grass. It doesn't turn green again, but it will in due time.

"Your element is cool, Jes. You can create something out of nothing. If I don't have water or Niall doesn't have earth, we don't have any special abilities," Louis tries to sooth, reaching beside him to intwine one of his small hands in her long, dark hair.

"But you can bend wind, too. That's pretty rare, to be able to defy two things. And you don't need anything to defy wind ," Jesy says, twiddling her own thick hair, focusing her fingers right in front of her sad green eyes.

Louis licks his lip and nonchalantly looks at Niall for help. He's still trying to catch Cheeze-Its, paying slim attention to anything else. "Jessica. You know your element comes directly from who you are as a person. You have fire, yes? That means you have desire and motivation. A wild spirit. You know these things"

"For one thing, Lewis, don't call me 'Jessica'. And it's not illegal for me to be jealous. and it's not even that big of a deal," Jesy says, emitting small blue flames from the tips of her slim fingers.

"Sure, sure," Louis murmurs, flinching in surprise as something slaps his cheek. He jumps up, searching his body for a bug in terror. All he finds is a stray Cheeze-It. With squinted eyes louis defies a small batch of grass stolen water at the guilty irishman.

+

"I want a trench coat," Niall declares, twisting awkwardly on the recliner. Louis knows he just feels lonely and craves some attention, so he pointedly ignores him, watching the tele instead.

Supernatural is the show of choice, and Louis feels guilty over how much he watches it. He would never admit it to Jesy or Niall, either. And he might have a crush on the trench coat wearing angel that is one of the major characters.

He could never outwardly consider it a crush. That is as good as tabooed. You are absolutely not to find anyone but your soulie attractive. That's never stopped Louis from appreciating a nice face or a plump bum. And whenever he catches himself with wandering eyes, he starts to wonder what his soulie looks like. 

How old they are. They are definitely older then him, considering his watcher was alive when they put it on him, but how much older? What does their hair feel like? Is it long or short? Straight or curly? Dark or light? Is their skin dark or light? Are they attractive?

Fate doesn't care about appearance, just chemistry, but... Louis might guiltily care about appearance. And mainly, the question that itches Louis is; male or female?

He doesn't mind for either, not that he has a choice, but he likes many aspects from both genders.

He likes long eyelashes that girls generally have, and he like lovely lips.

But he also appreciates big, strong arms and legs. and a good smell, that is so important. so, so important.

"I like Dean's coat, myself," Jesy says, eyeing the dark leather jacket hungrily.

Louis, losing his train of thought, rolls his eyes and laughs lightly ",you already have four leather jackets"

Jesy peels her eyes from the tele, just long enough to scowl at Louis, then she looks again. "But I don't have one that looks like that, see," she says distractedly.

Louis looks back at the screen. "Oh, yes, I know... but...," Louis nods dramatically, even though he knows that Jesy isn't giving him a lick of attention ",did you know that fifteen minutes could save you fifteen percent or more on car insurance?," Louis says cheekily, and Jesy swats at him irritably as something with dramatic music happens.

Not fifteen seconds later, the screen luminously turns black. Then a Geico commercial comes on. Both Louis and Niall shriek at that, falling to Jesy's feet as they clutch each other, laughing and screaming on. "Oh, the unadulterated irony!," Niall moans through his laughter and Jesy scoffs, but ends up laughing with them.

"That's an awfully big word for you, Niall, I'm impressed," Jesy sasses, hopping up from the sofa, nearly kicking Louis in the face. She ignores his wild scream of protest and grabs her black school bag off the hook on the door, digging through it as she comes back into the living-room. "We've got homework to get done, boys, And I'd like to have it finished before dinner," Jesy says, laying the literature papers down on the coffee table with three pencils.

Louis groans and covers his face with his hands ",Who gives homework on a Friday?"

Jesy gives him an incredulous glare and turns back to neatly arranging the papers. "Well, it's a good job today is Thursday, yes?," she says, having half a mind to throw a pencil at Louis, or maybe singe the hem of his pants.

"But tomorrow is Friday! And we'll have work to do. All day," Louis groans, rising up with Niall holding a leach-like grip to his legs. "And Ms. Edwards is holding an elemental test tomorrow. I still haven't been able to move a pebble!"

"Well. It's a good thing it's not graded on your inability to not do something, right? You know you've mastered water and wind, and you'll get a one hundred on that. How are you doing in literature?," Jesy waves a worksheet in the air and Louis slides over to the table, dragging a light weighted Niall by his leg.

"I'm a prodigy, honey"

+

"Who do you think your soulie is?," Louis asks as the trio makes their way to the park that is just up the block. Louis likes to practice his defying on the small pond near the benches where you can feed ducks.

"Don't know," Jesy says, holding the bag of bread in one of her hands, Niall's hand in her other. He's notorious for wandering off on his own and not being found for hours on end, and returning drunk from some pub. "But I think they go to school with us, my watcher has been nearly bright green several times, and it's usually when we walk to lunch and pass everyone in the halls"

"I think my soulie is a firefighter named Josh," says Niall, swinging Jesy's hand up and down with his. Louis scoffs and blows a sarcastic breeze at the blonde boy and Jesy sacks him on the shoulder with the bread bag.

"Don't mess up my hair, Louis. And how did you guess, Niall? Maybe by the fact that you're already married to him?," Jesy says sarcastically and Niall smirks at them smugly, wiggling his nearly invisible eyebrows.

"And you might want to figure out who your soulie is before school gets out. Senior year, baby! But... that does lessen your chances of meeting them if they do go to our school. What if your soulie is a teacher!," Niall gasps, looking wide-eyed at both of his friends.

Jesy swallows, and Louis guesses she hadn't thought of that. There is not a teacher at their school who is younger then thirty-five. And it's not uncommon for fate to decide your soul mate is more then two decades older. It's all about chemistry, and soul bonds, yadda yadda yadda. Louis supposes Jesy cares about appearance, too.

"Who do you think yours is?," Jesy asks, releasing Niall's hand so he can take off for the swing set. That's been Niall's favorite thing since Louis can remember. He meet the blonde earthier in grade 7 when he was 13 and Niall was 12. They met at these swings, actually. Now Niall's married, they're seniors in secondary school, and college will probably tear everyone apart. Ouch.

"I don't know, either. Mine isn't even near here--oh!" Louis looks down at his watcher, up at Niall, and back at his watcher in surprise. "Oh my, God! Look, it-it's lilac again! I didn't even notice it turn pink," Louis breathes, his hands starting to shake. Jesy snatches his wrist and looks at it herself, and feels Louis' quivering.

"Lou, honey, I think they're heading over the pond," Jesy squeals, squeezing Louis' hand in hers.

Louis doesn't say anything, he just stands rooted in his spot, his eyes widened and his mouth popped open a little. A little whine leaves him and he finally moves, sinking to the ground with his arms wrapped around his legs, which are pressed to his stomach. The watcher glows light purple and he can clearly see the 69 more years... that says how long his soulie has left alive.

"Do you think they'll try to find me?," Louis asks wetly, putting a shaking hand to his mouth, tears pooling under his light blue irises. Jesy sinks down beside him and Louis notices Niall coming towards them with a worried look on his face. He left his swing for him.

"Yes, of course, why wouldn't they?," Jesy asks, stroking Louis' hair, kissing his temple comfortingly. Niall sits down beside Louis and strokes his knee a few times to get his attention away from his watcher. It only takes Niall looking at the lilac screen for him to put two and two together and he squeals and tackles Louis in a strength most earthiers acquire.

Louis starts crying from relief then, nearly choking on his own tongue. If he's honest with himself, he thought he was going to die alone, never even be in the same country as his soulie-and now, this. He shudders a breath and forces air in.

"Oh, God," Louis shudders, chuckling lightly as Niall squeezes tighter to his torso, shaking him around lightly, peppering his tear streaked face with kisses while Jesy laughs beside them, stroking Louis' hair lightly, tears collecting in her own eyes. It takes a lot to make Louis cry, and even more to make Jesy cry. But it takes stubbing his toe for Niall to start, so it's fair to say this has him absolutely blubbering.

"Our Lou-Lou is going to find his soulie and he's going to be so happy!," Niall hiccups, and Jesy and Louis give the poor lad a pat on the back. They both understand, they're so, so happy. Louis' watcher hasn't been anywhere near the color it is now since birth. It turned dark red twelve days after his birth. His father died on him and his mum two days before that.

His poor mum was hysterical. Car crash. Nobody's fault. But Jay, Louis' mum, watched the timer on her watcher go from 40 more years... to dark. That's what happens when your soulie dies. Your watcher's screen goes black. And you have to look at it everyday because the wrist bands don't remove, they are adjusted to not go past your wrist bone, much less your fist. Then she had to watch her newborn son's watcher go from lilac to pink to red to such a dark red that it resembled blood.

"I already am happy, Nialler," Louis chuckles, but he knows what Niall means.

Meeting your soulie is one of those things, you just feel it. Like if you are a windier, you can feel the wind in the depths of your being. When you meet your soulie, you feel like you've just plummeted from a thirty story building. The chemistry is suppose to be electric.

Louis was there when Niall first met Josh. The poor boy collapsed.

To give the Irish boy credit, the burly firefighter Josh Devine stumbled and nearly feel to his knees. After he recovered, he took Niall from Harry's hold and picked him up, clutching him to his chest. They were soul mates alright, and Louis could tell from the get-go that their bond was extremely strong.

Niall woke up on Josh's lap, they were both on a swing, Niall's favorite swing, and Josh was softly lolling them back and forth. That was four years ago.

Louis only hopes that his encounter is that special. Niall can hardly recount what happened without falling into happy tears, clutching the wedding band tightly to his chest, kissing it repeatedly.

"It's the best feeling ever, Lou, I can't, I'm not going to start crying, I'm okay," that's funny, because he was crying before he even said that. "Jesy, will you hand me some bread? I want to feed the ducks"

Jesy chuckles quietly and digs in the loaf bag, tossing the wet boy a slice. She barely has time to protest before he's wiping his eyes with it. Her hand hits her thigh as he takes a bite of it and stands up, still sniffling, and makes way towards the duck--which are very used to and happy about humans bringing them bread.

"Did he just wipe his eyes and take a bite out of...," Jesy asks Louis with an incredulous look, shaking her head incredulously. Louis sniffles a laugh and shrugs, rising himself up slowly, helping Jesy up by her tattooed arm ",What even is he?"

"He's a love-fool," Louis giggles, wiping his eyes, looking at his own tattoos. He bites his lip as he and Jesy start towards Niall. "Jesy, what if my soulie doesn't like my tattoos?"

Jesy quirks her head to the side and wraps an arm around Louis' shoulders. "Honey, I think that's something that should'a been thought of before you got, what is it 30?"

"27," Louis mutters, biting his lip as concern starts to pool inside of him. He never really thought about what his soul mate would want from him. He's always thought that there's no chance of meeting them, so what does it really even matter? What if they don"t like tattoos? Or the fact that he has to wear glasses? He could easily wear contacts, but tattoo removal is painful and expensive and... he likes his tattoos. They mean things to him.

Jesy sighs and they stop right beside Niall, who has managed to scare all of the ducks to the other side of the pond. Louis spares him a chuckle and Niall scowls at him, his eyes still red-rimmed. "Louis, please," Niall whimpers, knowing Louis knows exactly what he wants him to do.

"I'm not your maid, you know?," Louis says, putting his hands on his hips. Niall pokes his bottom lip out and his eyes look bluer than before due to the crying and Louis can't deny the poor sod.

He sighs and Niall hugs him in gratitude, backing up to let him do his thing. He gets his legs in position and rises his arm. Ms. Edwards said that someone with as much advanced power as Louis should be able to defy without having to get into a stance eventually. But not yet. He twists his arms around his head, and he bends his index and second finger, casting them towards him.

The water, and the duck with it, slowly come towards them, as to not scare the poor creatures away. Louis quickly throws a piece of bread, aka the one he snatches out of Niall's hand, and offers it to them to sooth them from flying away. When they don't sense any danger, they approach and leave the water, shaking their feathery bottoms. Niall shrieks in joy and they all jump a little.

+

"Zayn, I'm telling you, I want to go home," Louis orders, but his words don't seem to matter to the intoxicated windier boy. Louis knows that he himself is slightly under the influence, and that's one of the reasons he so desperately wants to get as far away from this place as possible. He didn't think it would be this crowded.

This is where the bad people are. The kinks in the universe. The people who, when drunk, cheat on their soulie. Even if you don't know who your soulie is, you are not to practice any sexual activities.

Louis has had to save Zayn's arse more times than the older, tan boy would ever admit. Whether he is the one doing it, or having it done unto him, Louis always sweeps in and saves him, directing him out of the pub and toward his house, which is just a mile and a half away, tops.

"Louis, Louis, Louis," Zayn slurs, clumsily pinching Louis' cheeks, spilling a little bit of his vodka on Louis' favorite 'going out' shirt.

Louis clinches his eyes shut, trying desperately to keep his mind from fogging over and giving into the alcoholic rage. Louis is usually a peppy drunk, very slap happy, but Zayn has ruined his good mood. After his watcher showed that his soulie was headed to England, Louis had declared they celebrate. Jesy and Niall had denied on the stance that there's school tomorrow, and Louis knew Zayn would be up for any excuse to get drunk or take a puff. He barely said the word 'celebrate' before Zayn gave him the time and location on where to meet at.

"Zayn--stop!," Louis spits, using the minor of his abilities, removing the rancid drink from his shirt, expertly swirling his fingers until he maneuvers the concoction into a large thick-glass pub cup. Zayn watches it with angry eyes, and as soon as the drink has settled, he swipes his hand and send a gust of air that makes the glass fly off the counter. It hits Louis' leg and it will definitely bruise Louis' sensitive skin. Once again, the drink is on Louis. Only it's covering him now.

He growls at Zayn and clenches his fingers, extending his arms to send the nasty smelling drink onto Zayn.

Louis' eyes widen at the red-hot rage on Zayn's face. He doesn't remember how much Zayn drank, but he get's so angry when he reaches a certain point on intoxication. Louis can guess in his fear that Zayn has fairly bypassed his usual scale. "Louis," Zayn hisses, and Louis starts running as Zayn rises a hand.

He weaves around drunkards, confused citizens, and table as he tries to get away.

He makes it to the door, twisting the knob and opening it when the blast hits him. It's ice cold and burns his skin. The force of it forces him onto the door, slamming it closed again and slamming his head on the cold metal. He waits for only a moment before straightening up, dazed and extremely dizzy, and opens the door again. He barely gets a glance behind him, all the tables are overturned and people are on the ground, before he's out of the pub, but another gust of wind kicks the door closed before he's completely out and it slams on his ankle.

He shrieks and waits for the harsh, cold wind to stop before he opens the door enough to get his foot free. He runs, he runs as fast as he can with his ankle, probably broken, hurting as bad as it does.

He can feel a sinking feeling in his chest and he swerves into an ally to throw up I peace, but he doesn't find peace. He collides face first into a very tall person, who he assumes is a male. He feels like he's just been shot in the chest, and he looks down to see blood coating his shirt. He feels himself up in a panic, only to find no entry wound. Why does he feel like he's dropped from a building - oh!

He looks up with a closing throat and collapses to his knees. In front of him is a tall boy, who is covered in blood. Who's blood... Louis has no idea. He's clutching his chest and he falls down beside Louis, only he falls completely over.

Louis shakily lifts his wrist up to his face.

Bright green.

7 More Minutes...


	2. stuck

story: seven minutes

part: two // stuck

_____

"You're - you are - ," Louis stammers dumbly, pulling at his own hair as the tall bloke tries to regain his balance, grabbing the wall clumsily. 

"Hi, yes. Expertly sighted," says Louis' soulie, sputtering. Louis' eyes widen hearing the man's voice. It's rough and gravelly, and his mouth is also kind of oozing blood at a nauseating pace, and Louis winces as it drips down his pale, stubbly chin.

"What is your name?," Louis asks, swallowing and taking a step towards his soul mate, who, according to his watcher, has minus seven minutes to live. "Who are you?"

The tall man flinches horribly as his eyes -green - widen much larger than Louis thought was humanly possible two seconds ago. Louis and he look behind them and Louis knows he can hear footsteps. He looks back at his terrifies soulie, only to have a hand clamped on his mouth and arm. "Listen, listen, please. We have to get out of here, you have to get out of here - they're going to come to finish the job!," the scared man gargles. Up close, staring in his eyes, Louis realizes that this is no man. This is a boy, early twenties, no older than twenty-five.

Louis squirms until the boy let's go of his face, uncovering his mouth but holding his grip on Louis' arm with a tight hold. "What do I do? I can't help, my ankle is busted!," Louis whimpers and his soulie curses under his breath, tugging at his blood coated hair. "What's going on?"

The boy stuffs his bottom lip in his mouth angrily and his eyes blaze over. Louis flinches, expecting a punch or a slap, but the boy only pulls his shirt collar down. Louis hesitantly looks, and all he sees are two swallow birds tattooed on his collar bones. At least he doesn't mind tattoos. But under the left one is a slash. Louis reels backwards in fear and the boy's face goes from furious and frustrated to scared, tears pooling unto his green eyes. "Please help me," he whimpers, his lip fighting between wobbling and pressing into a straight line. His eyebrows quiver and Louis' heart clinches.

He takes a look at his watcher.

Bright green.

Six more minutes...

"Okay," Louis says quickly, and the grip on his arm tightens, "What do I need to do - "

"Tony! Aye, he's in here!," shouts a very gravely, burly voice and both Louis and his soulie turn towards the sound, at the other end of the alley. "And look at this, he's found his soulie! His watcher's green!"

Another man, much slimmer and slick looking than the first, fat and atrocious looking man. 

Harry stiffens and his grip on Louis' arm turns red hot before it goes slack. Louis feels fait when he feels Harry slump into his legs, his hand falling loose and his whole body is on the ground. Louis chances a glance away from the two terrifying men and looks at Harry. He's awake. But his eyes are very hooded and dopey and he's looking up at Louis. He whispers, "Please" and Louis swallows and nods, collecting himself.

He thanks the skies that it rained recently and there is more than enough water in surrounding puddles to use in an attack. Only Louis has ever only done stimulated attacks, nothing real. He's never, ever, had to work under pressure and fear like he is now. Getting into position, Louis tries to not flinch when both guys surprise him with a loud batch of obnoxious laughter.

"Lookie there, Theo, Harry's tiny little soulie 's gonna protect him!", booms the taller lad, taking a step forward.

Louis, with shaking fingers, rises both of his hands up, expertly twisting his fingers to collect water from the nearest puddle, the one right beside his soulie's, apparently named 'Harry', extended leg. 

That seems to have surprised the attackers into silence, and their smiles fall straight off their faces. Louis' lip gives an involuntary tug, a small victorious smirk. The two blokes are too far away to see it, but their reluctances does give Louis a needed ego boost. 

He waits for them to make their move, there's no way in hell he's going first. He guesses these two aren't the brightest, because it takes them almost two whole minutes to realize this. And Louis knows Harry's timer is ticking away. As Chubby rises his hand, Louis can recognize the firier stance, and he automatically brings a wave of water over him, and he only has to move his two first fingers to the left to throw the wet assassin to the wall, twitching his pinky and tensing his bicep to freeze him to it.

"Ow!," he shrieks as a blue, and white hot, ball of flame the size of his head whizzes past him, burning a ring of singed flesh the size of Louis' hand into his left forearm, where Harry had been holding onto it just a moment ago. He hisses and uses his one good arm to messily send water at the sleek man, clinching his fists into balls and encasing him in a full body case of ice, immobilizing his hands. 

"Are you okay?," Louis hears behind him, and he looks down and back. When did he step in front of him? 

"Yeah, I'm okay, I'll be okay, thanks," Louis says, nodding his head at the battered boy. His whole body catches on fire and he quickly looks at his watcher.

Bright green.

Fifteen more minutes...

His time has gone up... those guys were going to kill Harry! That's why he had so few minutes left, but they found him five minutes before he was suppose to die. They were going to torture him before they killed him!Louis clinches his teeth shut so hard it hurts and he reaches down to stroke Harry's cheek, who does keen into the welcomed safety and warmth, then he rises back up, shaking off Harry's hand as it grabs his pant hem in protest. Louis twists his not sizzling arm and crosses his two fingers, making a boot of water around his, probably sprained, ankle and takes a cautious step, letting dirt stick to the bottom of it so he doesn't slip. Then he clinches his fists and takes threatening steps towards the, literally, frozen blokes.

Originally and generally, Louis is not threatening. His main term of defense is sass and his quick wit, but right now... he's never felt more powerful. And the two men seem to realize that, because they exchange looks, and Louis can feel the terror radiating off their sorry arses. 

He lifts his arm and all his has to do is spin his fingers to send a cold wind at them, suffocating them for about forty-five seconds, and their made the idiotic move of trying to scream, which only winds them further. Louis has them right where he wants them then. Stuck, dizzy, and nearly unconscious. He, stiffly and painfully, uses both of his arms, lifting all of the water from the surrounding area. He throws his arms wildly and sends the water into a million different directions, freezes them in mid air, and sends the sharp, rain drop shaped ice knives at both of them.

Louis hears them whimper pathetically and blinks, quickly moving his fingers and turns the ice shards back into water. It merges together once more and coats both men, drenching them and Louis notices the icicles forming in their graying dark hairs. 

"Kid, you don't want to kill us," says Chubby, and Louis takes a threatening step towards him, and he notices the long, ugly hairs in the blokes nose have also frozen over. "Please don't kill me"

Louis clinches his fist and he knows the ice froze the chubby man even tighter in his encasing, just like he wanted it to. "You're wrong, you sorry sod. You were going to torture him weren't you," neither men says a word, but they flush when they realize Louis knows, "You were going to torture him and then kill him! He's no more that twenty-five! He's my soulie! Of course I want to kill you! But I won't... I'm no killer, I'm not like you"

"Thank you, thank you! And please, you don't know what he's capable of--"

"Shut up!," Louis interrupts the slick man, even though his words did click my curiosity. He brings up a fist and swipes water across his mouth, freezing it. His dark, hairy mustache was already mostly frozen, but now he can't talk, "Do you need me to shut you up, too?" He shakes his head quickly, and Louis narrows his cold blue eyes at him. He looks away and Louis turns his back and walks away, "I'm not going to kill you, but I'm going to leave you as good as dead"

"But - ," stammers the burly one and Louis clinches his tiny hand beside his head and can hear the approving sound of his grunt as Louis once again tighten his confides. Louis smirks, but it completely drops when he sees the still crumpled form of his soulie. Harry.

He looks at his watcher and sighs in relief, 16 more hours... it's not good, but it's an improvement. And he can guess that once they've gotten his wounds cleaned and medicine in his system, his numbers will get higher. Louis hurries towards him, thankful his ice boot is numbing his ankle, and starts lightly popping his cheeks, chanting, "Harry? Is that your name? Harry, okay, it's time to get up, alright? We're going to get you help, yes?" Harry nods and nods and just keeps nodding, a dopey smile on his pale and blood crusted face as Louis clumsily helps him to his feet. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"'Cause you're my soulie... And you're badarse," Harry says, and Louis sighs, though he does blush at the comment, "Ouch. That hurts, my chest hurts. And so does my knees. Hey... you have tattoos! I have tattoos, too. I bet I have more than you. Ouch... my body hurts. Are you okay, your arm is red, does it hurt? What is your name, by the way?" Louis' eyes widen and he nearly topples over as Harry unfocusedly takes a step off the curve, nearly sending both of them into the street. 

"Yeah, I bet your body hurts, babes, and yeah, I have a bunch of tats. I'm okay, you'll be okay. We're going to be okay, okay? And my name's Louis. Louis Tomlinson. Nice to formally meet you," Louis grunts, and yes, he can juggle being sympathetic and sarcastic. Harry nudges his nose with Louis', which isn't hard in his slumped over position, and Louis scrunches his face up, his glasses almost falling off his nose.

"You have glasses, that's cute. And confusing. You're deadly, yet you're cute and tiny. How does that work, hm? You're like... deadly cute!," Harry hiccups, and Louis is mad blushing now, collecting Harry in his arms better, trying to put as very much distance between both himself and Harry from that alley and those two goons as possible. Harry suddenly shoots up and Louis sputters so a stop, tripping over his feet and the ice boot. "We can't go to a hospital, there's people there"

"Well, yeah," Louis furrows his eyebrows at Harry's madness, "That is generally what is at a hospital. People." Harry just tugs them back from the sidewalk, into a new alley and Louis stiffens, looking around for any impending danger, which this alley seems to lack. "What's the problem? Harry"

"We can't go to any legal hospital," he continues to speak even though Louis opens his mouth and makes a sound to interject, "I'll explain, I swear, I'll explain. But right now, we have to get to my mate, his name is Liam. He is getting a degree in medicine. He'll be able to help, he knows where I stand. We - We have to hurry though, I don't think I can stay conscious for much longer, okay, Louis? Do you have a car? I can direct you there from here"

"Uh, yeah, I have a car," Louis nods, trying to not pay attention to the elephant in the room. Harry is still losing blood. And he can only see one spot where he's hurt, and there's probably other places on him Louis won't have the stomach to take a glance at.

"Where's it at? I - I can't walk much farther," Harry whimpers, and Louis swallows. The pub is only about a street away, he can see the bend that leads to it, but he defiantly couldn't carry him that far if he collapsed unconscious right now. He's so much bigger than he is... like, almost two full heads taller. And a lot more muscular. And muscle weighs a lot. Louis sighs.

"It's just past this building right here, only about fifteen more steps 'til we get to it," he grunts and tries to pick up his pace, and they finally pass the building in stumbling steps. Harry registers where Louis was almost as soon as they get to the car. Louis is helping him in when Harry sputters and looks at him, then at the pub. Louis looks, too, and he sees all the drunkards trying to illegally pull sleazy girls by some bushes. Louis feels disgusted just looking at the atrocious.

Louis buckles him in and tries to hop out of the passenger's side, but Harry grabs him by the waist, looking very closely in the eye, trying to assess him, he assumes. "Why did you abandon your vehicle here? Why are you at a dirty hook-up bar on a Thursday... are you a whore? Is my soulie a whore?," he seems to have asked himself the last part, because it's quiet and curious sounding. He looks up at Louis, "You're not a whore are you?"

"No, I'm not a whore," Louis squints his eyes, wiggling out of Harry's grip to get away, and he gently shuts Harry's door, jogging around the car, digging his keys out, and opens his own door, getting in and igniting it quickly, turning to Harry who is dazedly pressing the buttons to the air conditioner. "And I suggest you not assume things of me. The person who just saved your arse. Your s-soul mate...," Harry turns his attention to Louis again and Louis almost rears backward. He looks so young and child-like right now that Louis' heart pangs almost as violently as it had when he first ran into Harry not ten minutes ago. "Now, tell me. Where is your friend? The one who can help you?"

+

"You drive like a maniac," Harry says as Louis rears to a stop. Louis doesn't comment, which is extremely rare for him. He looks around, and shudders. This is the rough neighborhood, but it's surrounded by large houses, expensive cars and angry looking dogs, barking and straining on their metal leashes. Louis swallows and unbuckles himself unsurely, looking at Harry, who seems like he knows exactly where he's at. Louis walks around the car and opens Harry's door for him. 

As they start towards the door, Louis is sure to turn around and lock the car, something he never does, and defies some water onto both door's locks, using a lot of effort to freeze it with both of his arms. "Do we just knock?," Louis whispers as Harry grunts, they're taking it step by step. It's a big house, there's a lot of steps. 

"Are you okay, you're arm?," Harry asks instead of answering, and Louis shrugs. He tilts his head in confusion and Harry knocks his knuckles to the wooden door in a strange beat. Knock, know, slap, knock, slap, slap, knock. Louis flinches and nearly gets into stance when the door is suddenly opened. A happy and attractive looking boy with blue hair and eyeliner on is at the door, ready to welcome whoever he was expecting to know the, assumable, code. Instead, his eyes widen and Harry grunts in relief and collapses into his arms.

"Liam, Liam come here! It's Harry!," shouts the blue haired boy, easily picking Harry up, which isn't surprising since he seems to be near or at six feet tall and just as muscular.

Another man rushes in with a clear, glass cup of what looks like red wine. He is much more built than Harry or this new boy, and he is very handsome also. "Michael? Harry! When did you arrive? What's happened? You only just arrived here, how have you already...?," says the strong looking man, disposing of his glass on a table, assisting the blue haired boy, Michael, with holding Harry. He grabs his long legs and Louis steps forward to stroke Harry's hair. The whole 'instant connection' thing with your soulie is definitely not a myth. Louis can practically feel Harry's pain. "Who are you?," asks the man, and Louis shrinks a little.

"I - I'm Louis, Louis Tomlinson, sir. I'm Harry's soulie," he stammers and Michael and the man's mouths pop open. Louis guesses they would stay there for longer if Harry didn't moan in pain. The man claps his frail, small shoulder and nods his head, his dark, slicked back hair already coming out of its gel induced confides. Louis worriedly follow them as they bring Harry to the couch across the room, throwing pillows and cushions aside to lay him out full size.

"Michael, go get me my supplies," the man says, and Michael nods, hurrying from the room in a blur of blue hair and pale skin. Louis continue to stoke Harry's hair and he hums, a small smile on his lips. He bets Harry can feel the connection, too. "Hello," says the man, and Louis looks away from Harry towards the man, "My name is Liam. Liam Payne. You may call me by either. How did you meet Harry?"

"In an alley," Louis says distractedly , not willing to cast a glance at his watcher. He jumps when Harry grabs his hand and squeezes tight, but he then puts it to his chest. He hold his breath and doesn't say anything else until Michael comes back in with a tray covered in metal medical supplies. "Will - Will he be okay?," he slurs, obviously a little delirious from shock and/or blood loss. Louis frowns. 

Liam licks his lips and takes a wipe from Michael, casting Louis a sympathetic glance. "Let's get started," he mutters, and Louis flinches when he rips Harry's shirt open, buttons flying everywhere and Harry's whole battered and tatted and pale body on display.

That only lasts about four seconds. Harry comes alive to the world and screams as soon as the water cloth touches his chest. Louis instinctively twists his hands and the water logged, dripping rag flies into his hands. He blinks in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. Sorry..."

"No, lad," Liam says thoughtfully, processing what just happened. "You're a waterier, yes?," Louis nods, still clutching Harry's hand to his chest, "Then you do this part. You clean his wound, can you do that?" Louis gulps. He's never been very good with blood, but he can feel it in his soul that he has to stay and do this. He nods and puts the rag in his lap, slightly wincing as he jostles his hurt arm, defying the water out of the flannel.

Harry barely even bats an eyelash as Louis takes to cleaning him off. His wet, green eyes follow the water wherever it goes, and when it turns pink with his blood, he turn his gaze to Louis. Louis can feel it. "Okay," he says after a while, and he moves the water into a nearby plant that looks like it needs some food anyway, "Okay, I think I'm done" Liam looks up from organizing his supplies and nods in approval, giving Louis and encouraging thumbs up.

He stands up and claps Louis' shoulder again, and he winces. "Good lad. And, I'm assuming you're not very good with blood with those faces you were making. So, I'd proscribe you leave the room. Jade and Taylor are in the kitchen, readying soup for Harry. You can go in there and, like, escape if you need?"

"No!," Harry gasps, and everyone startles at that, and he clutches Louis' shirt ", He saved me, he's my soulie, don't let him go away!" Liam and Michael share a glance. "And he's hurt, look at his arm, will you Liam? Look at his arm" Liam and Louis share a glance, at my arm and with our eyes.

\+ 

"What is all of this? What's going on?," Louis asks Liam, curling myself into a ball as we sit on opposite sides of the counter in the kitchen, two very beautiful girls cooking something that smells devine. Liam shuts his eyes and looks down for a moment and Louis bites his top lip, breathing a quiet sigh out of his nose.

"This is something... you're Harry's soulie, so I guess fate had it this, that you're here... I'm so sorry that you are being thrown into this. There's no escaping, no running away from this. If you try and run, the only thing you'd be running to would be death," Liam says, and Louis' heart sputters and he can suddenly feel his blood coursing through his veins.

"Liam, what is this? What have I gotten myself into?," Louis tries to sound threatening, but all animosity from earlier seems to have flushed out of him as his shoulders sag and his eyes droop.

Liam sighs again and opens his eyes, his dark brown ones gently trying to sooth Louis. It takes him almost a full minute to say something, anything. "Harry is the leader of a gang. The... the most influential and powerful gang in half of North America and one third of Europe. England, Ireland, Scotland... the whole lot"


	3. shock

story: seven minutes 

part: three // shock

______

"Uh, no," Louis says, putting his hands palm down on the bar in front of him. Liam raises his eyebrows and Louis breaks out in a cold sweat "No, I don't think... I... b─but... no! I─I, no. This isn't suppose to happen! I am suppose to meet my soulie at─at a nice café or book store and we have coffee and we end up getting married before we're twenty and we'll die happy with our four kids and twelve grandchildren and... and..."

Louis' rambling patters off as the lights start to flicker. Liam sighs and licks his lips, Louis looks around as everything starts going off around them. The stove is flaring, the microwave is turning on and spinning violently, the light over them is nearly swaying with the amount of electric current blowing through it. Louis yelps when the door leading into the kitchen bursts open suddenly. 

"Well, you know what, shortie? You have free range to get your arse away from here! You haven't got to stay and humor me, who gives a damn about this whole 'fate' thing, eh? Why don't you just forget about me and go back to that bar? I bet there's plenty of greasy, desperate men there who are totally about that hearts and flowers thing, who don't give a rat's arse about fate!," as soon as Harry started his speech, the lights had started to actually sway and all of the oven eyes caught on fire. 

"I'm sorry," Louis whimpers, when he really wants to ask 'What are you? Who can control electricity?' "I─I'm sorry... I don't know what... I... I..." He slumps into his chair, trying to stop himself from crying. He is Louis Tomlinson, and Louis Tomlinson rarely cries. "I think I should leave," he rises up with a sniffle, and he dismisses the look Harry gives him. Liam stands up and puts a hand on Louis' chest to stop him. Louis sees Harry take a step forward, and Liam must too, he drops his hand. 

Liam looks between Louis and Harry in thought. "Who attacked you, Harry?," he asks, folding his large arms over his chest. Louis watches them with bated breath. Harry folds his arms too and Louis swallows. Nobody says anything for a moment, and Louis can tell it's taking a toll on Harry to be standing up. He has to bite his tongue to stop from suggesting he sit down. 

Harry's face hardens and he cover his face with one of his hands and when it reaches his chin he looks more subdued and he sighs. Louis notes everything suddenly calms down; the lights fade back to their original wattage and the microwave and stove stop flaring. "Poe's goons. Theo Martin and Hunter Will, I remember them from previous... problems. I... they had me and... they... Louis saved me. He stopped them and brought me here"

"By 'stopped them', do you mean killed them?," Liam asks, and Louis stiffens, shaking his head so quickly his glasses almost fall off his face, "You didn't? Okay... so, you left Poe's left and right hand men alive, they know your face, probably first name, and they know you're Harry's soul mate. You think there's even a sliver of a slim chance of you leaving any protection we can put you under and continue your life as it was before?" Louis' cheeks flush and his eyes widen, Harry sighs. 

"I─no! I have a life─I have family, friends... I can't just...," Louis mutters, water collecting at his eyes. Harry, losing his stubborn self control, steps forward and wraps Louis in his chest. He doesn't even question it, Louis doesn't, he just wraps his good arm around the warmth, and starts crying. "What is going to h─appen?"

"Life here isn't as bad as you're thinking it is," Harry murmurs, his chin resting on the top of Louis' head, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. But... you're going to have to accept the fact that this is not a hearts and flowers life style. We will have to move, sometimes over night. No traces left behind, no questions asked. You won't want for anything, Louis, but..." Louis sniffles as everything gets added on, "You'll have to trust me"

"I don't know you," Louis mutters, and Harry huffs, squeezing Louis shoulders tighter. "Do I have a choice in any of this?" 

"You always have a say in everything. I can not think of any circumstance where you wouldn't have a say. And that's a decision you will have to make," Harry says, and he looks concerned at the red splotchiness under Louis' blue eyes. Liam coughs and both boys look over at him, Harry wincing as he nonchalantly settles into a chair. 

Liam puts his hands on the counter and intwines them. "This is a decision you are going to have to make. Before you leave here. This is beyond you. This is your friends and family and the person sitting at the table beside you at the corner coffee house. You are a target now. Anyone associated with you, they are a target by default" Louis looks away from Liam, towards Harry, as if expecting anything else from him.

His bottom lip wobbles without Louis' permission, and he bites his lip to stop it.

"What do you think I should do," Louis asks, his voice quaking. Harry runs his hands through his thick hair and Liam bites his thumb nail. "Do you know what I should do? I don't want anybody to get hurt"

Harry puts his elbows on the bar and puts his chin on the palms of his hands. "I don't know. I've never had to deal with something as mentally difficult as this. I don't know what's coming this way, but I do know that there is no way someone isn't going to get hurt"

+

"Will I ever be allowed outside ever again?," Louis asks as he follows Harry and Michael around. They're on what Michael referred to as 'the grand tour'. Harry stops walking and Michael almost bumps into him. He backs off quickly as Harry scowls at him. He turns to Louis with a curious look. 

"You took two of the best fireiers to date single handed. Literally. I think you'll be alright to go outside from time to time," they start walking again, but Harry doesn't stop talking "But that doesn't mean I want you to go outside alone. I'm not the hearts and flowers type... but you must be my soulie for a reason. This─You are my only chance at love, to continue the family heir" Louis freezes and Harry looks at him in confusion. 

"It's a lot to have me put into this mess, but you want me to eventually bring children into this? That any child of mine will be any part of this gang?," Louis says slowly and Harry crosses his arms at him. Michael takes another few steps back. Louis furrows his own eyebrows and holds his ground. He's not backing down on this one. 

"Do not argue with me. You think we won't eventually have a child? This is for life, babe. And no matter what you want, what I want even, this is what they will be raised into," Harry says, and Louis' fingers clinch. The wet grass and soil around them suddenly start freezing over and neither Harry nor Louis comment as Michael excuses himself. 

Louis tilts his head to the side. It's rare for Louis' powers to go out of his control, only when he's angry. And he's livid right now. "How dare you? How dare you even consider any child as a heir to a gang? If we ever have a child, or children, is that how you're going to consider them? As a object that is worth a title? Disgusting" Louis snarls. His eyes clinch as he stifles a wince as the pain in his arm flares up. Harry puts his hands on his hips, looking around the yard at the ice. 

Louis does too, and he blinks in surprise. There's ice running up all the houses up to their windows, crawling up power poles, and the small pond across the yard is completely frozen over. He huffs quietly and mentally forces himself to calm down. He counts to ten, and when he's done, everything is melted and dripping. 

Louis flinches as the door to the house bangs open, and he and Harry look to see Liam hanging out, looking concerned. "Are you guys okay? I saw the window ice over and I...," he drops off, and he's probably feeling the tension in the air. Louis sighs, and forces a smile at him. He hobbles on the boot that Liam had incased his swollen ankle in when they suggested a tour. 

"We're fine, thanks," he smiles as Liam walks down the steps and helps him up them again. He bites his lip as his foot starts aching too. "Hey, uh, do you have any more pain medicine by any chance? I think it's wearing off. My arm and ankle kinda..." Liam smiles and nods, closing the door with Harry still outside. He disappears into the kitchen and Louis hobbles over to the living room. He sits on the couch, the one where Harry was worked on not five hours ago, and picks his cell phone up off the coffee table. 

He bites his lip as his eyes look over all the missed messages and calls. 

______________

_

Zayn

Text Message (16) 

_

_

Zayn

Missed Call (12)

_

_

Jesy

Text Message (7)

_

_

Jesy

Missed Call (4)

_

_

Niall

Text Message (5)

_

_

Mum

Text Message (9)

_

_

Mum

Missed Call (7)

_

_

Dan

Text Message (2)

_

_

Dan

Missed Call

_

_

Lots

Text Message (4)

_

_

Fizzy 

Text Message (3)

_

_

School

Missed Call

_

______________

Louis flinches when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks up, expecting Liam with the pain medicine, but instead he meets eye contact with his green eyed and concerned looking soulie. He looks away from him and wipes one of his eyes with his jumper, trying to be quiet with his sniffling. "You should not contact them, it will put them in danger," Harry says, and his hand rubs one of Louis' shoulders lightly. Louis shrugs and just continues to look at the screen full of missed communication. He knows everyone is probably freaking out. Sixteen messages and twelve calls from Zayn. The most recent seven minutes ago. Nine messages from his mum and seven missed calls. Even Dan, his mum's brother, and Lottie tried to get in touch with him. 

Louis shudders a breath and covers his mouth with his free hand. Tears easily glide down his cheeks and Harry settles down beside him. "I can't have them in the dark. My mum will never stop looking for me. Zayn will think something happened to me, and that it's his fault. He doesn't deal well with guilt. I have to tell them!," Louis hiccups, burying his face in Harry's shoulder. 

He knows he shouldn't take comfort in him, he wants to do that to their future children, but he's so upset and he wants comfort and he wants his mummy. He knows one thing too. Niall was not being over dramatic about the magnetic feeling you have to your soulie. It's almost physically impossible for Louis to not wrap his arms around Harry and bury his face in his neck. They sit in silence until Liam returns. 

Louis swallows when he sees the anticipant wipe, syringe, bandaid, and rolled up cotton wrap. "Alright, Lou, are you ready? I was thinking that we could change your wraps, on your arm? We'll do that after the pain medicine settles in. Have you gotten a look at your injury yet?" Louis shakes his head, biting his lip as the burn starts burning, just because he is thinking about it burning. 

"I'm not very good with blood. Can't really stomach it very well...," Louis says, and Liam tilts his head. 

"Really? I could tell you were a bit squeamish earlier today, cleaning Harry's wound. Infection would have set in if we hadn't gotten to it. What are the odds of you running into each other?," Liam hums, and Louis bites his cheek. 

He knows first hand how bad Harry could have gotten. In under seven minutes. He looks down at his watcher and sighs. 

Bright green. 

68 more years... 

One year less then it was last time he checked. He sneaks a glance at Harry's and his eyebrows furrow. It's bright green, and it says 28 more years... Louis feels sick as he grabs Harry's wrist─startling the gang member. "I only have twenty-eight years left?," he wails, and he feels very weak for crying so much in front of these people. They have probably killed, and he's sat on their couch in tears. He sniffles and tries to sober up, and he hiccups when Harry pulls him into his arms. 

"It's okay, this is the lowest it's ever gone. This is probably avoidable. My numbers have been pretty low, haven't they?," Harry tries to sooth, but his hands are sloppy and clumsy as he tries to card his fingers through Louis' hair. He figures he's not custom to comforting people. Louis shrugs. 

"The lowest you've been at is three minutes. That was so scary... that only lasted for a few seconds though. I was in class, I accidentally blew thirteen tables over and two kids got busted noses," Louis whimpers, and Harry furrows his eyebrows and looks up at Liam, who has the needle ready. 

"You were in class? Are you still in school?," Louis nods and Harry bites his lip in dread of the answer of the answer of his next question "How old are you?" Louis twirls his phone in his hands. Harry bumps his shoulder. 

"I turned seventeen last month... how old are you?," Louis asks, worried at how pale Harry got at his revelation. 

"I'm turning twenty-three on the first of next month," Harry says, and Louis looks at him with wide eyes. He looks younger than that. But... he is such an influential person, no way he could be a teenager. "I didn't know you were still in classes..."

"So you'll let me go home?," Louis asks hopefully and Harry's face hardens. 

He squeezes Louis' shoulder with pressure. "I am not holding you captive. This is your range of choice. Coming and going. But I am telling you now, we know what is best for you. What is safest. For everyone. We can keep you safe, if you follow our rules. And going to public school, out to the grocery alone, and anything else public is not safe for you or your friends and family. That's why I do not want you contacting them again" Louis sniffles again, the dread in his chest icing over. 

"If I'm allowed input, sir," Liam says, and Harry nods, "I think Louis should... I think it would be wise to inform at least one of his associates of his well being. So they don't worry themselves mad. We don't need the police on our trails again..." Louis watches as Harry processes this. Harry, Louis notes, is obviously in charge around here, he has an air of authority. 

He finally sighs and looks at Louis, who is looking at him. "Okay...," he says, folding his hands over his legs. Louis notices that he's favoring his left one. He had been shot in the calf, but it was only a graze. Louis sits up, alert to what he's saying. "I am not giving you permission, I am not telling you that you are limited to, but I think only one phone call should suffice. One person of your choice. And you should do it with one of our prepaid phones so it can not be tracked. Okay?"

Louis bites his lip, clicking the home button and watching all the reminders come up again. "Only one?," he asks. Harry shrugs, but Louis can tell that he doesn't even want him making the one. "Okay," he says, and he jumps when Harry calls out. 

"Michael!," the blue haired boy is at the door in no more than twenty seconds. 

"Yes, sir?," he asks, and Harry sends him to get Louis a phone. 

"Are you ready for your shot, Louis?," Liam smiles and Louis nods nervously. He got a shot not too long ago, and it didn't hurt too mad, but he's still trepidatious. "I'm going to go ahead and wipe your arm," Liam narrates as Michael comes back in the room with the ratty flip phone in his hand. He leaves as soon as he gives it to Harry. He gives it to Louis, who dials the number he knows by heart. 

It only rings about three times before the line is picked up. "Hello?," says Jay, Louis' mum. He can hear the stress in her voice. He knows she's very protective over all of her children and this must be so hard for her. He sniffles and Harry furrows his eyebrows in sympathy. "Louis?"

"Yeah, mum─ow!," Louis shrieks, and he can hear his mum's phone hit the ground. He whimpers as Liam injects the medicine into his blood stream and he bites his lip. She's crying on the other end, Louis can hear Dan asking what's wrong as Liam quietly apologizes and puts on the bandaid. 

"Louis! Louis, baby? Are you okay? Are you hurt? W─Where are you baby? Can you get home?," she asks, and Louis starts crying again. This is potentially and probably the last time he hears his mum's voice. Louis coughs a wheeze and Jay whimpers over the phone. 

"Mum... I'm not coming home," Louis says, and Liam pats his shoulder sympathetically. Louis hears his mum's voice hitch and he bows his head. 

"What are you talking about, not coming home, son?," Louis hears Dan on the phone and he can guess that his mum gave it to him so she can cry. Louis starts chewing on his nails. 

"Dan, who all's at the house?," Louis asks as Liam unwraps his gauze. He hisses under his breath at the sting and Dan picks up on it. 

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Lou...," he can hear his mum crying in the background. He looks up at Harry for help, but there's nothing much the sad looking boy can do. 

"Yeah... yeah, I think I'll be okay. Now, who's all at the house? Hurry, I haven't got much time," Louis says. He knows an extended phone call isn't a good idea. It'd be suspicious if anybody who got ahold of it saw it. Dan sighs on the other end. 

"Lottie, Fiz, Phoebe, Daisy, Doris, Ernest, Jesy, Niall, and Josh. Why?"

Louis swallows. He looks between Harry and Liam, and he knows what this is. His final goodbye. "Can you just put everyone on the phone? Please" It takes a moment of silence, but Louis can hear Dan calling for everyone down, and he puts it on speaker. 

He coughs and waits, letting Liam rewrap his arm. The medicine is definitely kicking in. "Louis?," asks a small voice, and Louis knows it's Phoebe. He smiles a small smile and wipes under his eye, mouthing a silent thank you to Liam as he cleans up. 

"Hey, Phoebs. Okay, guys... I have to make quick work of this, alright? Okay. I found my soulie a few hours ago. I'm okay, but I can't come home. Don't worry about me, I'll be alright, but I've got to keep you all safe. This─This is going to be the last time you hear from me. I love you guys," Louis garbles, and he can tell that everyone is holding their breath. 

"But, Lou─!,"

"I love you guys!," Louis interrupts Niall, he doesn't think he can take anything they have to say. Everyone hesitantly replies, and Louis waits for everyone to say it, to say 'I love you' back, to get a last taste of everyone he holds dear, and he says, "I really love you guys," before abruptly hanging up and throwing the phone across the room.


	4. ominous

story: seven minutes

part: four //ominous

_____

"Sorry for breaking your phone," Louis sniffles, burying his face in his hands. He feels the powerful numbness from the medicine, but that doesn't help much in terms of his emotional state. Harry shakes his head and rubs Louis' tattooed arm, the one opposite to his burnt one. 

"Don't worry about that... What do your tattoos mean?," Harry asks. He can tell that changing the subject away from what just happened would be a good idea. He can feel the wind blowing his hair and the water still soaking his boots has started to freeze. He puts it in his mind to remember how powerful Louis really is. 

Louis wipes his eyes behind his glasses and only sniffles a little as he pulls up the sleeves to the jumper Liam gave him earlier. His has a huge, singed hole in the arm and is covered in blood. He bites his lip and looks outside. The sun has finally rose a little higher in the sky. It must be nearly seven, maybe seven thirty now. He looks back at his arm and sighs. Most of the small inks remind him of what he's having to leave behind. 

"Which one do you want to know about?," Louis asks, extending a shivering arm. He's not cold. Harry looks at him in the eyes, then down at his arm, hesitantly pointing at the skating stick figure. Louis swallows and nods, "Yeah, okay... well that is my first one. I got it with my mate Zayn when we were fourteen. It's kinda pointless, but I really like it" Harry furrows his eyebrows. 

"This 'Zayn' character seems to have given you a lot of grief in the past. Illegal tattoos galore. What was it he did to have you end up in that alley?," he asks, and Louis feels defensive of his friend. He crosses his thin arms over his chest. 

"I could ask you why you ended up in that alley. Running from two dangerous men twice your size," Louis says, and Harry's facial expression doesn't change, he just looks bored. 

"I was going out to make sure one of our petty rivals got... taken care of. I just landed down from America this morning. Private jet. They met me at the gates. They jumped me, and pulled a gun as I started running. Nicked my leg, but I've had worse. It's quite impressive how powerful you are, by the way, taking on the two of them while intoxicated" Louis blushes. 

He twiddles his thumbs and pulls his sleeve back down, the tattoo talk over before it began. "I wasn't that drunk. And I've been practicing since right after nappies. Top of my year... and I'm not in a year anymore...," Louis rambles, and Harry doesn't comment, "What kind of elementor are you?"

Instead of replying, Harry lifts his left hand and bright red and orange fire tips the tops of his fingers. With his other hand, he twists his pinky and the stone figurine on the table lifts up and levitates. Louis nods, his eyebrows pulled in confusion. It's odd for a waterier and fireier to be soulie."Liam is a earthier and Michael is a windier. Taylor is also a windier and Jade is a fireier. I don't think you've met them. They're the chefs"

Louis shakes his head and yawns. He doesn't want to seem rude, so he stifles another yawn with a clenched jaw. "They were cooking breakfast when Liam was healing you... they left when we started talking..." Louis recounts what happen just moments before Harry stormed into the room, his abilities effecting the electricity. "Not to be blunt... but did you defy all the electricity?"

Harry blinks and the lights turn off, the whole house shuts down. Louis' eyes widen and Harry's lips twitch a little, the power surging back in. "You don't become such an influential person at my age for no reason" Louis wants to remind him that his influence is donned into a gang, but is that anything to say to said gang leader? Whom can effect electricity. "And, I can see, so far, that you are just as powerful with water. You froze the whole property in five seconds. Has nobody ever pointed this out to you?" Louis shakes his head. 

"Not really. Most of my family are pure windiers. Not much interest in my water abilities. I'm trained in wind, too, and I've been trying with earth. I─I can feel the pull that I feel when I defy, but I just can't get any earth of any size to move...," Harry's eyes widen in surprise. 

"You can defy almost three things?," he asks, and Louis nods, fighting his eyelids as they start to get heavy. He hasn't slept since he woke up at five forty yesterday morning for school. He clicks the power button on his phone. 7:24 am. He'd be headed to first period if he was at school like he is suppose to be. Maths. He ignores all the notifications that he hasn't even checked and puts his phone down. "Why don't you go take a nap?," Harry says, taking a knackered Louis by surprise. 

"I'm okay─"

"I know you're okay... but you need to sleep, alright? I'm not kidding about always being on your toes, always cautious. You need to be alert at all times. So, go take a nap. Michael!," Harry calls, and Louis winces at the sudden loudness of his voice. 

Michael appears out of the kitchen with a piece of pizza in his hand, his bright hair wild looking. "Yes, sir?," he asks, setting the pizza aside. Harry motions him forward, and he comes without asking a question. 

"Can you take Louis up to the guest bedroom? The one to the left of my room. I want him near if something is to happen," Harry says, and Michael nods, looping his arm with Louis' good one until he catches Harry's possessive stare, then he drops it. Louis strokes Harry's cheek lightly as he passes him and Harry sighs. 

It is not uncommon for soulies to react like this. They're acting a little less what it usually is, too. Most soulies sleep in the same bed automatically. Louis figures Harry wants to take things slow, following Michael up the stairs. Up another flight of stairs. Louis is thankful for strong pain medicine. 

"How are you liking Mister Styles?," Michael smiles. He seems much more at ease away from Harry, Louis notes. He smiles and shrugs his shoulders. How does he feel?

"This is a lot to handle at once. I've only known him for a few hours, several of which he was delirious from pain, and now I know what his residency is... it's making me sorta biased in terms of judging off his personality," Louis says, and Michael doesn't comment, he just nods his head in understanding. Neither talk until they reach the final floor, and Michael opens the white door located to the left of a deep red mahogany one.

"Do you want me to wake you at any certain time?," he asks and Louis shakes his head. If they'll let him sleep, he'd like to get in the eight hours he missed. Michael nods his head, but Louis grabs the long sleeve of his large jumper before he can close the door. "Yes?," he asks in surprise. 

Louis scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, "D─Do you think there's any clothes I could change into?" He's never felt comfortable sleeping in jeans. Or tight button ups. Michael tilts his mouth and turns to the machine beside the door that Louis didn't notice before. He presses a button and something beeps. 

"Mister Styles?," he says into the machine, and Louis' eyebrows rise when Harry's voice comes through the other end. They have an intercom?

"Yes, Clifford?," he asks, and Michael swallows, telling Harry about Louis' predicament. "Yes, that's true... we'll have to get him some new clothes... I'll be up in just one moment..." Michael nods to himself and turns to Louis. Neither boy talk until Harry has made it up the two flights of stairs. He still looks very pale and almost fragile, Louis thinks as Harry goes into the room with the mahogany door. 

"Is that his room?," Louis asks in a whisper, and Michael nods, bowing his head. 

Harry comes into the room not flat thirty seconds later, carrying two hands of clothes. He dismisses Michael and leads Louis to the bed, motioning for him to sit beside him. "I do not have any clothes your size. I presume you would better fit in Clifford's, but I do not feel comfortable with my soulie wearing another's clothes. So you will settle for these?" Louis looks as he sets the clothes out. 

Louis blinks. Harry's idea of 'settling' and Louis' idea of 'settling' must be vastly different. 

While the clothes are obviously very much too big for his smaller frame, the fabrics are exquisite and all the clothes on this bed probably cost as much as half of his car. Black silk pants, a fleecy white shirt, a navy satin over shirt, and very fuzzy cotton socks. "Oh, I don't need all of this... a pair of sweats and a tee shirt would suffice...," Louis says, taking a feel at the luxurious fabric of the shirt. Harry smirks at him, but it doesn't look seductive, it looks humor induced. 

"I do believe your days of seven year old tee shirts and paint stained sweatpants are over, Louis" Louis blinks. That's exactly what his sleep wardrobe consisted of. 

"I just... I don't require all kinds of things... I don't want you to spend any money on me," he murmurs and Harry laughs, surprising Louis. He looks up, his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Harry chuckles again, shaking his head in amusement. "So how are you to acquire food? Cloth? Going to get a job at a grocery now that a rival gang knows your mug? That's a good idea and all, but I'd much rather have you just take what I buy you. Are you going to change or not?" Louis' eyes widen as he talks. 

"Are you going to leave so I can?," Louis asks nervously and Harry laughs again, "I've never changed in front of anyone before..." Harry smiles smugly. 

"Good. That makes me feel better. And do not worry on this. I only want to see what you look like. Do you have any more tattoos? Freckles? A beauty mole, perhaps?," he says, and Louis blushes. He has all three of those. And he also has what he would consider pudge. Louis covers himself with his arms, trying to will his blush down. "C'mon, love"

"If you make any crude comments, I'm going to blow you through the wall...," Louis mutters, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Harry doesn't doubt him. Not that he would even imagine saying something ugly to such a beautiful boy. He watches calmly as Louis unbuttons his shirt, taking it off his shoulders. He quickly reaches for the shirt, but Harry grabs his wrist. "Harry..."

Harry doesn't say anything, and that makes Louis nervous. He tenses as one of Harry's hands reach up, settling on the tattoo that decorates both of his collarbones and the in-between. His thumb swirls around the first 'I'. "It is what it is? When did you get this?," Harry asks, and Louis twiddles his thumb. 

"A─bout nine weeks ago, yeah, about nine weeks ago... I got it with my friend Jesy, she got some quote on her leg," Louis rambles, and Harry nods, his gaze going around Louis, like he's at an art exhibit and Louis is the main piece. Louis blinks. 

"You have so many tattoos... freckles. They are very lovely... you are very lovely. Look, you can see your ribs...," he says, and Louis blushes. How can such an extravagantly attractive and influential man look past the obvious flaws in my body, and only point out the highlights?, Louis wonders. "We need to get some nourishments into you. After your nap, there will be a good meal prepared for you," Harry says, handing Louis the clothes, caressing his cheek and standing up.

"Okay," Louis says, sighing in comfort as the shirt encases his body. It feels like he's wearing water, and that feels very natural. "Harry... thank you," he says, twiddling the socks in his hands, toeing off his Vans. Harry smiles at the sleepy boy and nods, closing the door behind him. 

+

Louis can't help but stumble when he starts down the stairs. He looked outside when he woke up at the sky was orange. The clock beside his bed read 8:26 p.m. 

He giggles at how big the trousers are on him. They trail the ground like a ghost as he walks. They are as tight around his waist as the strings will allow, but he still has to hold them up with both of his fists. The navy over- shirt pools around his fingers and he pulls it tighter to himself, catching a chill. 

He's incased in warmth though, as he enters the kitchen. It appears that everyone in the whole house is in the large kitchen, stirring pots or cleaning table tops. "Louis!," Liam smiles, and Louis lazily returns the gesture, accepting a bowl with a spoon of something warm as he walks towards him. It tastes delicious. 

"Where's Harry?," Louis asks, and Liam's face drops a little. Louis puts the bowl down on the counter and looks at Liam in confusion. "Liam, where's he go?"

"Ah...," Liam says, scratching the back of his neck, "He and Michael went out to take care of some... business..."

Louis' eyebrows furrow. "What kind of business?"

"None of your's," says a familiar voice and Louis spins around, nearly tripping on the long pants again. His eyes widen as he catches sight of Harry and Michael both. Their faces, arms, and clothes are covered in blood. It looks like they leisurely tried to smear it away, but didn't try very hard. Louis swallows and takes a step backwards. 

"Please tell me that that's animal's blood," he whimpers and Harry rolls his eyes, stepping backwards as a small girl with brown hair steps forward with a wet rag. He takes it from her and cleans himself off, looking at Louis in confusion. "O─okay, I'm just gonna not be in this room," Louis says quickly, sliding the still full bowl towards the middle of the counter, excusing himself. 

Harry catches his wrist as he gets through the door and Louis has to scramble to keep his trousers up. He lightly thrashes his arm, whining deep in his throat as his arm starts to throb, the pressure squeezing his whole arm tightly. Harry accident defied him. Tears stream down his face quickly as the pain roars to life. It didn't hurt this bad when it happened with the goons from earlier. 

Harry automatically lets go and looks at his hand in surprise. There's blood covering his whole palm. Louis gasps for breath and Harry blinks about fifty times in three seconds before he screams for Liam, for anybody who can wipe the pain off his poor soulie's face. 

"What happened?," Liam asks in a panic as soon as he bursts through the door. Louis' borrowed over-shirt is in a puddle on the floor and his white shirt is covered in the blood dropping down his arm, which is cradled to his chest. "Louis, H─Mister Styles?"

"I─," Harry garbles. He's never minded blood on his hands, but he's about to throw up feeling Louis' warmth seeping between the crevices of his fingers. "L─Liam, help him!" Liam furrows his eyebrows and reaches for Louis, who flinches away from him, gurgling about how much it hurts. 

"I'm going to make it feel better, okay? But I need to get you to the medicine room, alright? I don't think it's life or death and has to be done right here, do you?," Louis considers shaking his head, but he's already being lifted by his armpits and held like a baby to Harry's chest. Liam leads them through the part of the house that wasn't included during the tour earlier. "Set him on the cot, will you?" Harry nods and lowers Louis down, keeping a grip on the back of his head like someone would do with a baby. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," Harry whispers, stroking Louis' hair with that clumsiness from earlier that reminds Louis that Harry probably spends the most minimal amount of time possible comforting people. Yet he's here, doing it for Louis. Even though this is his fault. "Liam, hurry up!" Liam flinches and nearly drops all of the medical supplies in his hands. 

"Louis, can you rate this on a scale of one to ten? One being bearable and Ten being excruciating," Liam says, shakily putting everything in order on the tray beside the bed. Louis can't even get his lips out of the tight line they've wedged into. "Okay... I'm going to give you some medicine, okay? It'll make you really dizzy, but you won't feel a thing, alright?" Louis nods, pinching his eyes together. 

His arm hurts so bad that he doesn't even feel the needle puncture his arm, directly above the gaping, bleeding, hand shaped hole in his arm. 

He doesn't realize he's not in pain for a long time. He just watches Harry for a while. How he winces when Liam does something that looks like it hurts, and Harry will look over at him, to make sure he is still okay, that he isn't feeling anything. 

He smiles at Harry each time, and Harry gives him a small one back, his eyebrows dipped in concern. "Liam... you didn't over dose him did you?," Harry asks and Louis giggles at how distorted his deep voice sounds. Harry looks back at him with wide, very green, and concerned eyes. 

Liam bites his lip and continues working on Louis' arm, which has started to puss and swell. "I don't think that's our biggest problem, actually," Liam murmurs. The burn is a very distinct hand mark. And it'll definitely scar. And it's definitely infected. Both of them. "Sir. You know you aren't suppose to use electricity on people," Liam says, trying to concentrate on draining the poor, deleterious boy's arm. 

Harry cover his face with his hands, breathing in deeply. He flinches when he feels somebody grab his hands. He does not like people touching him. He can trust next to no one with the life he's leading. He wouldn't say he's effected by haphephobia, he just usually hates being touched. But, he relaxes when he sees it's Louis' little hand holding his very long index finger. "Harry, these pants are very, very comfortable. Are they made out of cloud fibers?" Harry chuckles lightly. Louis nods dreamily. 

"Mister Styles...," Liam whispers, and Harry winces at the terrifying tone of his voice, "I, um, he's been burned to the b─bone. The electricity wouldn't stop moving, and..."

"Will he be alright?," Harry hisses, and Liam nods quickly. 

"I'm just afraid... we might need to amputate. I don't know if it's worth risking the spread of infection," he says, and Louis giggles again, playing dumbly with his glasses. Harry puts his hand on him to calm him down.


	5. oblivious

story: seven minutes

part: five // oblivious

_____

Louis purses his lips, staring straight up at the celling, dazedly creating constellations in the ripples of the texture. He doesn't listen as Harry and Liam continue to talk. They do not sound very happy, Harry actually sounds very angry. Louis does not know either man well enough to seek comfort from the other, so he occupies himself away from both of them, trying not to pull any attention to himself, even though he has an acute awareness to the hand that Harry still has on his shoulder. 

He furrows his eyebrows as one of the bumps on the roof looks like a yin yang symbol. He never really got the concept of the thing, but he knows that Zayn has one of his arm, and that makes him ache for home, even though he hasn't even truly been gone 24 hours. "Harry?," he says, forgetting the whole 'staying conspicuous' thing. He tugs on the tall man's arm until he looks at him, his face softening from the hard look he was giving Liam. 

"Yes, Louis?," he asks quietly and Louis smiles up at him, raising his eyebrows and points at the roof where the yin yang symbol was, and now he can't find it. He furrows his eyebrows and Harry looks up too, confused about why the small boy beside him looks upset. All he sees is roof. He looks down at Louis in confusion, and then alarm at his wobbling bottom lip. "Hey─Hey! Why are you crying? Are you in pain? Do you need more medicine? Liam─"

"I can't find it!," Louis cuts him off with a wail. Harry furrows his eyebrows and looks over at Liam, who is readying disinfectants and needles galore, focusing mostly on that. Harry looks back down and hesitantly touches Louis' ear. He's surprised that he's afraid to touch him like he is. What if he electrocutes him? He's never really cared if he hurt anybody, but he has a gut stabbing need to not hurt Louis. 

"Can't find what, love?," Harry whispers, trying to sooth his hiccuping soulie. 

Louis sniffles and goes to wipe his nose with his injured arm, but Harry restrains it and Louis forgets about it automatically. "T─The yin yang thingy that w─was on the roof! It was like Zayn's tattoo. I miss Zayn, Harry. And my family. And Jesy and Niall. And I lost the yin yang that was on the roof! What if I never see it again?," Louis whimpers, and Harry sighs, deciding to let the medicine take it's course. He's used it many times before and he knows what comes after the dramatic sadness and looniness. Drowsiness. "What even do yin yang symbols mean?," Louis asks as Liam settles the last of the medical supplies beside them. 

"They're a part of Japanese culture. The white dot in the black section signifies the good in the bad and the black dot in the white section represents the bad in the good," Liam explains, knowing full well that Harry wouldn't have the slightest clue how to answer. Louis nods like he understands. He kinda does, but his brain is mostly focusing on looking for the yin yang looking riffle in the ceiling. 

He's still looking for it when his eyes begin to droop. His glasses slip down his face a little and Harry removes them as his head lolls to the side. 

The gang leader watches as Liam starts working on the wound, which seems redder and larger and deeper than before. Harry sighs to himself and swears under his breath. Liam looks up at him for a moment, silently asking him, and he quickly looks back down to Louis' arm, disinfecting it. "I hurt him worse than Poe's guys did, Liam," Harry says, his voice gravely with guilt. Liam licks his bottom lip and doesn't say anything. It's true. "I can't believe I hurt him. I just... I couldn't help my defying. It just happened," he adds and Liam throws away a bloody square of cotton. 

"Sir... if I'm aloud to say this... this isn't actually all that surprising. You've never really had any proper learnings on how to control your elements. And you have more power than most fireiers do. Electricity is very hard to control even if you're a master. And we both know how rare being able to defy electricity is. You... I think you need to hire a learner to... give you lessons," Liam says, trying not to sound like he's ordering his boss into anything. Harry licks his lips and looks down, pondering. 

"Yes... yeah, that sounds like a wise thing to do. I will have Clifford look into one as soon as we have Louis fixed up," Harry says, "Speaking of Louis..." Liam pulls out a needle and continues to try to fix Louis' arm, waiting for Harry to continue, aware of the fact that it usually takes the gang leader a while to voice his emotions. "How do you think he'll do around here? He's kinda... soft. Metaphorically. I know he's strong─and very powerful─but I don't know what I'm going to do with him. How I'm going to keep him safe. Not just from our rivals, but from what we do. I don't think he could handle seeing someone get shot. Or stabbed. And those are everyday occurrences. He won't want to be around drugs, probably no alcohol. And he'll probably be really needy and sensitive once he's pregnant"

"He's the carrier?," Liam asks, and Harry scoffs. 

"Out of all of what I just said, that's the part you're going to comment about? And... yeah. I'm pretty sure. My father had me tested when I was a child and I'm not the carrier of the two of us. I think he knows he's the carrier, too. That's probably for the best. I think it's fitting that it's him instead of me. The kinds of stress that I deal with would inevitably terminate any child I would conceive," Harry says and Liam nods. 

"It's almost like it's... fate," Liam says sarcastically and if he didn't have a needle, sewing his soulie up, Harry would have half a mind to clock Liam cross his ear. "And, yeah, I think he'll be okay here. Once you get settled in you're apartment it'll be easier. Lloyd and Murs have it mostly put together. All that's left is to have the plumbing turned on, which can be done at any time. And I think you're right about keeping him away from the violent parts of this. The house is in a nice neighborhood and surrounded by a pristine town like you requested, so he won't see any blood on the streets. All you have to do is keep him away from dark shadows," Liam adds and Harry nods, rubbing his calloused fingers through Louis' very soft and feathery hair.

+

"─I don't want to look at it without Louis," Harry says, looking over at the still dozing boy across the room, putting the phone in his hand to his other ear, fixing his hair with his fingers without really thinking about it. 

He can hear shuffling on the other end of the phone. "Okay, yes, sir. That's fine... okay, um, sorry. When do you want the plumbing the be turned on? Olly─I m─mean Murrs has gotten the lighting and electronics done and I've gotten all the tiles and surfaces finished. The furniture is exactly how you sent it in the blue sheet, sir," the girl on the other end rambles nervously. Harry is a high end boss who is usually very demanding of perfection. 

Harry hums in approval, walking over to Louis and carding his fingers through his hair once more, smiling softly at him. "Thank you, Lloyd. Well done. And I think we'll have the plumbing turned on by... let's say this Monday?," Harry asks, oblivious to the startled girl on the other end of the phone. Cher blinks in surprise. She's never been praised by Harry, and she's never heard his voice so delicate. He must be near his soulie, Cher figures. "I will be expecting your call at... I'm free at eight thirty-two through eight thirty-nine Monday. Be punctual, Lloyd," Harry says, hanging up without any indication or farewell.

"Mr. Styles," says Michael, stepping into the medical room, nearly startling the young gang leader. Harry turns to look at him and raises his eyebrows, silently asking him. "Um, we've gotten wind of some of Williams' guys trespassing on the Den," he says, and Harry's eyes widen. The Den is a medium sized little civilization on the other side of town where most of the London dwelling gang members live. If you control the Den, you could literally pick apart everything Harry has build up, everything he inherited from his father. 

"Do they all know I've arrived in England yet?," Harry asks, hesitantly standing up and stepping away from Louis. He really wants to be here when the poor boy wakes up, but this is really important and he needs to be there─to show the rivaling gangs that the boss is in town. Michael shakes his head and Harry smirks, imagining the surprised looks on everyone's faces when they see him. "Who does?"

Michael steps more into the room, and Harry notices that he's a geared up. "Mm, I think just Poe. His guys were the ones who met you at the airport and... say, sir... I don't know if it's so good of an idea for you to go out there. You haven't had any chance at all to heal or rest up. We took care of those dealers earlier... I think you might've done enough for one day...," he says, trying desperately to not offend his dangerous and testy boss. Harry rises his eyebrows and Michael visibly swallows. 

"It's been sixteenish hours. That's plenty of time. All it was was a graze. I'm fine. I am the leader of this gang, I need to show them that I'm here," Harry says through gritted teeth. He felt just fine during their bust today, killed three of the guys on his own with nothing but a knife. His gang has a policy to only use their element on emergencies, to keep the gift of defying pure. Not everyone has the gift and it can give an unfair advantage, and Harry knows that's dishonorable. 

Thinking about it, he never verbally complimented Michael on taking out two guys with one bullet. But he did nod at him as soon as it happened and that's more than he usually gives. Michael literally glowed the whole drive back. 

"It's just... I think we've got it handl─"

"I'm going. That's final," Harry says lowly. Michael nods. He knows when not to cross boundaries. He knows from experience that Harry never shouts when he's angry. His voice just gets lower and lower and lower, his jaw clenching tighter and tighter, his nostrils flaring, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes blazing. He doesn't look much like that right now, but Michael knows if he keeps pushing, he'll get him there. He nods and excuses himself quietly. 

Harry turns around quietly and silently admire his soulie's facial features. They're very soft and even though he said it while in a dizzying stage of shock, he wasn't lying when he told Louis that he is very surprising, that he doesn't look as strong as he is. He leans down and graces Louis' warm cheeks with a soft brush of his lips, rising up and stroking it once more, before slowly leaving the room, grabbing his knife belt and gun holster from the table as he passes it, joining Michael and the other who will be going to the Den with them. 

When Louis wakes up, he is utterly alone. In pitch darkness. He looks out the window of the room and sees nothing but blankness and a soft dusting of stars. He rises himself up and stumbles as he gets on his feet, gripping the bed for support. He has to get out if this dark, creepy room that he realizes is decorated with various needles and saws and odd utensils that look like they could be used for torture. He doesn't do good in darkness. 

He continues to stumble, using the wall and doorframe as support as he wobbles towards the brightness that he sees illuminating the wall to the adjacent hallway. As soon as he hits light he notices the thick, heavy bandage wrapped around his left arm. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, stumbling backwards as the realization hits him. Harry hurt him. Harry burned a deeper hole in his arm because Louis was trying to get away from him. 

With that knowledge fueling his actions, Louis quickly─and clumsily─makes his way through the hallway and stumbles up the stairs. In his delirious and frightened mind, he still knows that it's a bad idea to leave the house with his face known by bad people. He looks around, disoriented, as soon as he gets up the last one, clutching the rail for dear life. He huffs out in excretion, his body feels much heavier than usually. He lugs himself through the hallway and up the second flight of stairs, the same floor as Harry's bedroom. He doesn't want to chance running into him and angering him, so he quickly and silently opens a door (a coat closet) and falls to the floor, leaving it opened slightly─still afraid of the dark─and wraps himself up with a dusty old fleece coat that he accidentally knocked off its hanger.

He cries in silence for a while, desperately trying to get his breathing under control. He felt so powerful standing up to Harry earlier, before he knew the gang leader was just as. He hiccups to himself and the clothing until he hears a loud shout of his name that sounds like it came from the ground floor. He whimpers in absolute terror and cowers ever further into the corner of the closet, covering his face with the cold, stale coat. "Louis!," he hears again, definitely Harry, who is definitely one floor closer to him. He starts shaking when he hears the footsteps walk up the stairs with a heavy tread. 

"Please, please, please...," Louis whispers to himself as he sees the shadow of Harry as he reaches the top of the staircase. Louis' eyes widen when he sees Harry open the closet door across from his and he looks around in panic, grabbing the umbrella for a weapon. He has no water and he's no good at wind without both hands. As soon as Harry turns around and sees that the other closet is slightly opened, his shoulders sag in relief. He's glad he's found me! He's going to find joy in torturing me!, Louis wails in his head.

"Are you in there, Louis ?," Harry asks quietly, and he shouts in surprise, because as soon as he opens the door he is batted straight on the top of his head with an umbrella. He flies backwards and Louis takes his chance to spring up and try to run down the stairs again. On a better day, maybe that would have worked, but Harry─with his naturally killer instincts─easily recovers and grabs Louis by his waist, spinning them around and dragging Louis into his room two door down with his heels slightly dragging the floor. Louis starts crying and runs to the other side of the room as Harry slams the door shut and clicks the lock. Louis can't see his face, but he can see his muscular arms placed extended with his hands on his hips. 

He whimpers again and accidentally lets out a shattering sob. "P─P─Please d─don't hurt me more, please H─Harry, s─s─sir! I'm sorry─sorry for running away and hiding and hitting you─ple─ease don't hurt me more!," Louis curls in on himself as Harry steps up to him, and yelps in terror as he feels a hand touch his shoulder, "Please!" He nearly screams when he's pulled from the wall and shoveled into Harry's toned and very hard pecs. He sniffles quietly when he realizes that he's not going to get hurt again. 

Harry shushes him quietly and starts twiddling his hair, which is wet from his nervous sweat. "Don't call me sir, okay, baby? You don't have to call me sir, you're the only one, okay? I'm not your leader or your boss or anything... I'm your soulmate, lovely. And I didn't mean to hurt or scare you. I'm so sorry. I just... I can't always control my elements. I never got to go to school and master it. I'm kind of stupid, too. But I think you'll be smart enough for the both of us. Don't think that you'll ever have to run away from me punishing you, because it'll never happen. I'm going to take lessons on how to better my defying. It'll be okay," he rambles and Louis starts sucking on his lower lip, curling more into Harry.


	6. ovulation

story: seven minutes

part: six // ovulation

______

Louis fiddles with his gooey eggs as Taylor and Jade bustle around, fussing over him from time to time. He tries to eat another fork full, but he just doesn't have much of an appetite. Harry told him before he left that they would be moving into their actual home tomorrow. 

It's been a little over a day since Harry hurt him and he still fights a flinch when his soulie moves, and he subconsciously scoots away and quiets down when he's in the room. "Would you like something different to eat, Mister Louis?," asks Jade, and Louis looks up at her and gives her a small smile, shaking his head. Her dark eyebrows furrow in concern. "Mister Styles said that we need to get your weight up...," she insists, and Taylor looks up from shining a glass to give him a stern look. He sighs in exasperation. 

"I'm not starving myself, I'm just nervous about moving in with Harry tomorrow," I'm nervous about living alone with someone utterly unpredictable, is the translation to what he says. Both girls seem to understand, because Jade stops stirring the stu that's going to be for supper and Taylor sets the rag and cup down. They both walk over to him and he sighs again. "Don't worry about me, I'll be okay," he says, and he dodges both girl's sympathies by abandoning his eggs and leaving the kitchen. 

He doesn't know if they're cursed to remain in the kitchen forever or if they just know to let him be, but they don't follow him. 

He takes his time on a one person tour, re-looking at everything he, Harry, and Michael had looked at before. It was a tour for Harry too, considering he's never been this far into England and never seen it, but he's the one who designed the whole complex, down to the length of the blades of grass. That's what Jade told him while she was making his eggs anyways. 

He doesn't bother going upstairs. All that's up there is Harry's bedroom a bunch of closets and guest rooms. Louis himself actually fell asleep in Harry's bed. After being on the floor for almost an hour in the corner of his room, Harry moved them onto the bed and covered Louis up with he thick, very comfortable blanket. He woke up alone and went straight to the kitchen. According to Taylor, every gang member in the house went to help with some dilemma at some place she called 'the Den'. Louis didn't question it, figures Harry will eventual tell him about it. 

He steps through the backdoor of the house and sits on the steps, flinching as the door behind him slams shut. 

He just sits and defies water for a while, one handed. His arm doesn't actually hurt with how much medicine he's swallowed and his ankle isn't as swollen, just mostly bruised. Considering how hard the door slammed into it and how thin Louis' bones are, it's a surprise his ankle didn't snap in two. He shudders at the thought. He focuses on the water puddle in front of him for a while, twisting his fingers and clenching them into a fist, turning his wrist, straining his fingers perfectly straight. Levitating, freezing, moving, bubbling. He accidentally steams all the water away by clenching his hand too tight as a hand touches his shoulder, startling him. He looks up and nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Harry with his eyebrows furrowed, a couple of smears of blood on his shirt and face. 

"What are you doing?," Harry asks, and Louis swallows, shrugging. He hears the taller man sigh and he looks back down, trying not to shrug Harry's hand off his shoulder. He knows Harry wouldn't try to hurt him, but he also knows that he's not very good at controlling his element. "Come in with me? I need to clean up," Harry says, and Louis wordlessly stands up and follows him back into the house. They glide through the house and up both of the flights of stairs in silence and Harry leads them into his bathroom and then his attached bathroom. Louis sits on the toilet seat as Harry grabs a black rag from under the sink and wets it with water from the tap and soap from a gold dispenser. "Are you ready to move into our house?," Harry asks, tabbing at the blood, wincing when he jabs a cut. Louis shrugs and Harry turns to him with a stern look on his dirty face, "Use your words, Louis"

Louis swallows. "Um, Uh... yeah. I'm just nervous, I guess," he says and Harry nods in understanding, going back to cleaning his face off. 

"You don't have to worry, Lou. I've got us put in the middle of a very nice, peaceful town. Perfect for raising our children in a serene environment. They─and you─will never have to see any enemy blood. I'm sorry that you had to see what you did see," Harry says and Louis looks down at his legs with wide eyes. He was just nervous about moving in with Harry, he didn't even think about all of that. 

Louis looks up as Harry starts to peel off his bloody shirt. Louis swallows again, sucking in a breath. Harry's whole torso is littered with bruises and cuts and stabs. He shakily reaches forward, and Harry winces when Louis' soft touch brushes a particularly big, black bruise. The one that he got from getting tackled by four guys at once. He doesn't figure Louis needs to know that. "How many children are you wanting to have?," Louis asks, trying to distract Harry from the pain. 

He starts wiping at his chest but spares Louis a glance. "Lots," is all he says. Louis doesn't comment on that, he only hums. He wants a large family, too, but he's not going to raise hooligan thugs. 

"What gender would you want to have first?," Harry doesn't even have to look up to answer. 

"Boy. All boys. Say, Louis. What is your fertility number?," even though Harry isn't looking at him, he still blushes. When he doesn't reply right away, Harry looks at him expectantly. Louis licks his bottom lip in mortification. He holds up eight fingers, wincing as he uses his injured hand. Harry's eyes widen automatically and he coughs, dropping the rag to the ground. "Eight?"

If your fertility number is higher than four your odds of getting pregnant automatically are roughly 85%. Five is 92%. Anything higher then six means your odds of conceiving anything less than two children at once is very unlikely and you will get pregnant no matter the precautions. At or higher than eight means you are so fertile that you could conceive up to five children at once. Nine and ten is so rare that it's only happened twice, and they had ten and eleven children respectively. 

"Y─Yeah," Louis whispers, putting his hands under his armpits, "My mum's mum had three sets of twins and five single babies... and I think I remember her telling me that she's a five. And she had her last baby, my mum, when she was sixty-eight. So I'll probably be, like, really fertile until I'm kinda old. Fertility is sorta in my blood? Sorry..." Harry lowers himself into a squat and looks at Louis in confusion, petting his hair gently. Louis sighs quietly and bites his bottom lip. 

"Why are you even apologizing? I said I wanted a big family, baby..."

+

Louis sits in the car awkwardly the next morning. His car will be delivered to their home later, it's having the license plate changed right now. He tries to stay quiet as Harry continues to talk very huskily into the phone. He seems angry, but he's not screaming or raising his voice, it just keeps getting more gravelly and Louis shivers. "─I don't believe I told you to send that many guys. No, Chandlers. If we have too big of a casualty loss, it's on your head. Literally," Harry hisses, hanging up without a farewell. Louis blinks and clutches his old clothes closer to his chest. 

The minutes pass by, and Louis nervously reaches forward, turning the radio on. He feels soothed by some song he doesn't know the name to. It's at the beginning and the guy is singing about smiling like you mean it. "Who is this, do you know?," he asks quietly, trying to defuse Harry's tenseness. Harry focuses on the song and nods, focusing solely on the road again. 

"It's The Killers. They're very good," Harry says, and Louis nods in agreement. Harry continues to drive on the highway, and Louis watches as they finally reach civilization. He sees the pretty two story houses turn into stores as they transition into the downtown part of the city. He looks around in confusion as Harry takes another turn and suddenly parks. He looks around, and notices that they're in front of a high-end looking mall complex. He looks over at Harry in confusion, and the gang leader pulls the keys out on the ignition. "We're going to buy you some clothing and things that you like. I think the house could use some personalization," he explains, hoping out. 

By the time Louis has all of his clothes tucked under his seat, Harry has came around and opened the door for him. Louis ducks his head with a quiet "Thank you," and follows Harry into the store. He imagines Harry is naturally possessive, so it does not surprise him that as soon as one person looks at him for longer than five seconds, Harry has their fingers entangled. "What are we buying?," Louis asks, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. He flinches when Harry suddenly snatches it from him and yelps when he suddenly shoves it back into his pants pocket. 

He blushes as Harry says, "I'm paying. I've got plenty of money, Louis, you don't have to worry" Louis looks up at him. 

"I do not want to come off as a gold digger, though," Louis whispers, dodging people as they get a little too close. He figured that anybody could be a rival gang member, and he really doesn't want to die in the middle of a billion dollar mall. Harry seems to sense that. 

"You don't have to worry, love," he says, stroking Louis' back gently, "I had us put in a good community, remember? No chance of anyone getting hurt. And don't fret about being considered a gold digger of any kind. My money is your money. And we have plenty of money to splurge on some nice clothing and personal items" Louis bites his bottom lip and nods, letting himself be drug by his good hand. He's never had money to just spend. 

"Burberry?," Louis gasps, trying to pull Harry away from the store, "No, that's too much─I think I saw an Aeropostal a while back─" Harry, all so gently, yanks Louis back into the store, opening the door for him. Such a gentleman, Louis inwardly scoffs, waywardly touching the fabric of a shirt. 

A flustered looking work attendant spears out of thin air and Louis flinches when his hand is suddenly slapped. He recoils into Harry, who is also tense, a very stern pull in his eyebrows. "Don't touch what you can't buy, please and thank you," says the worker man and Harry growls. 

"Don't touch what isn't yours, please and thank you," Harry quips, holding Louis' stinging hand to his chest. The worker looks up at Harry in surprise. Harry does look a lot more high-end and much more threatening. "So scurry of, yeah?," he says through clenched teeth. The workers nods and trips over himself trying to casually walk away. "Okay," Harry says, leaning down to whisper in his ear, "See anything you want?"

By the time they were leaving the mall, Louis had thirty-two new shirts. Mostly Burberry and Topshop. Thirteen new pairs of pants, most of them tight, dark denim jeans. A Rolex watch, four new sets of shoes, and few soft jumpers. Then he got a new clock, a few decorative statues and a couple of picture frames for later use. 

He didn't ask for any of it. If he so much as took it off the rack to look at it, Harry would find his size and throw it over his arm to buy. The only things Louis asked for were more requests for the essential. Toothbrush, a new set of contacts, shampoo, conditioner, and body wash that all smell like cotton candy. Louis doesn't consider cotton candy girly, because both genders eat it, so he ignores Harry's playful jabs. All he said was "Hush," and Harry laughed again. The only thing he actually wanted for was a The Killers album that he saw as they passed the record store. 

He saw the logo and remembered the song that he liked from the radio earlier. He automatically stopped and Harry ran right into him. He grabbed him by the waist to keep him from falling over and he looked to see what had halted his soulie. He didn't see anything until he saw the little lightening logo with 'The Killers' written under it. "Do you want that, baby?," Harry asks, setting them both right ways. Louis earnestly nods, blushing like mad. He really doesn't like asking strangers for things. Even though the stranger is his soulie. 

Harry gently pulled Louis in a let Louis look through the various CDs the band had published. He settled on the one called 'Direct Hits' because they were obviously direct hits for a reason, and the song 'Smile Like You Mean It' is on it. That had Louis sold. The album was rung up at £12.08 by a bright blue haired girl with a kind smile. 

So here they are, present time, with Louis looking through the little pamphlet that came in the CD. He's oblivious to the surprised look on Harry's face. He got so many new and expensive things, and he's content with just reading the thank-you's from a band that he's only heard one song to. That relieves Harry greatly, to know that his soulie is not greedy. "Harry? Could we play this in the CD player?," Louis asks, earnestly showing him the disk. Harry smiles and takes it from him, inserting it in the CD slot. 

The tune to the first song starts and Louis instant falls in love with it, too. He looks at the back of the CD for the name of the song. Mr. Brightside. The lyrics went 'I'm coming out of my cage and I've been doing just fine. Gotta, gotta be down because I want it all' Louis squeals happily in the same fashion he always does when he finds music that he likes.

They get through about seven more songs before Harry tells him that they're coming up the driveway. He deposits the CD and reminds himself to pick back up at the song 'Human'. "I'll grab the bags, Lou, you just go in and get settled. Rest your ankle and arm, I'll be in in a second. Here's the keys," says Harry, popping the trunk and handing the objects to Louis who nods slowly and quietly thanks him. 

He walks up the staircase to the garage, not expecting what to see. He didn't look outside when they pulled up. As soon as he unlocks the house a long, piercing beep flows into his ears and he yelp and nearly drops the keys. He deactivates the alarm system when the keys and his fingers tremble from the whole still. He looks around for the first time and almost swallows his tongue. "Whoa..."

Harry comes up behind him with two arms lugged down with bags and kisses the back of Louis' head, looking around for the first time, too. "Welcome home"


	7. utilize

story: seven minutes

part: seven // utilize

____

Louis does a little 360 turn, his eyes getting bigger and bigger. 

Never in a million billion years did he ever imagine that he would live in a house as nice as this one. He's just in the kitchen─which is attached to the garage, and he feels awfully small. "Want to have a look around? We can take your stuff upstairs and I'll show you around?," Harry offers and Louis nods slowly, his jaw sort of slack. 

They leave the kitchen─and all it's shiny brightness─and step into a hallways that's as long as Louis' childhood home. There's various door and they all peak Louis' curiosity, but Harry promised him a tour, and the older man is lugging all of his stuff upstairs, so his overbearing curiosity can stop for a moment. "A─Are we sharing a room?," he asks and Harry looks like he's trying not to laugh. He is smiling though, and his eyes look very pretty when they're bright and happy, opposed to angry and stressed. 

"I would imagine so. But we have plenty of guest bedrooms if you'd rather sleep in a different room," Harry chuckles and Louis nods. 

"Good," and Harry looks over at him, nudging a thick, dark wood door opened with his foot. They walk across the room and he deposits the bags on the bed, setting right beside them. Louis looks around for a moment in awe of how utterly flawless the whole room looks. It's huge, and the over all theme is red and gold. There's an exquisite black chandelier high above their heads. 

"You're not going to sleep in here?," Harry asks, and that draws Louis' attention back to him like Harry is reeling in a fish on a pole. Louis' eyes widen in surprise. He didn't suspect Harry would want to be so forward about their relationship. 

"I─I─We barely know each other," he stammers and Harry's eyebrows draw together. 

"You slept in my bed last night. And the night before that," Harry says, crossing his very hard and muscular arms over his chest. Louis swallows. That mustn't be a good sign. He lowers himself onto the floor, which is a very soft carpet, and looks up at Harry pleadingly. 

"I feel asleep the first night... it just happened. And there was a thunderstorm last night... I... I don't do well with those...," Louis says, and Harry just stares at him. He's honestly surprised. Louis snuggled him closer last night than he has since they met in that alley, trying to keep him upside and conscious. He thought they had a breakthrough, and he's been trying to block out the knowledge that Louis is constantly flinching away from him. 

Harry nods, willing himself to not become frustrated. His frustration usually comes off as anger and Louis is already scared enough of him he knows. "Okay. I'll take your clothes to your room then. Julia should be coming in to start her duties around one. She'll hang them. Pick out which room you want and I'll wait here for your return," Harry says, and Louis uncertainly starts for the door. Harry nods him off and he closes the door behind him. 

The first door that he encounters, in front of Harry's, he opens automatically. It's─of course─absolutely stunning. The theme of this room is much lighter than the main room. The walls are a periwinkle color with baby blue accents. There's a pretty crystal light fixture that could almost be described as a chandelier, but it's not conventional. The bed is very large, Louis assumes a California King, and the quilt is very silver with beautiful white touches here and there. "Oh," he whispers, smiling. 

It's a part of him, his waterier and windier tendencies that draw him to lighter colors. He naturally loves blues and silvers and pastels. He knows that if he and Harry are ever going to sleep in the same room someone is going to have to compromise. He can guess that Harry won't want anything too light like this one. 

He leaves that one with it already stitched into his heart. Harry is running his hands through his hair with a distressed look on his face when Louis knocks on the now open door, taking a shy step in. "Have you made your decision that quickly?," Harry asks, standing up as Louis nods. Harry adds that to the list of things he's grateful for about Louis. He's bold, he's powerful, he's smart, he isn't greedy, and he's punctual. "You're very perfect. Did you know that?," Harry asks out of the blue and Louis hiccups a little, confused about Harry's confrontational affection. 

He blushes anyways. "Thank you," he whispers and Harry adds 'bashful' to the list in his head. "And, yes, I chose the room adjacent to this one. The blue one," Louis says and Harry knows exactly the one, he designed it in case his soulie happened to be a waterier and just simply couldn't deal with such a dark color of red and black. 

Harry nods and smiles at him, picking the bags up with both of his arms, following Louis through the door, hallway, and into the blue room, temporarily Louis'. Harry figures he'll be sleeping with him by the end of the month. 

"Okay. Would you like the grand tour now?," Harry asks and Louis nods slowly, taking another look at the expensive decorations. As a sudden thought, Louis takes out a pretty blue cup out of one of the bags and sets it on the glass dresser. His mum has the exact one in green and pink and Louis figures that it's a little piece of her, here. He turns back to Harry slowly, and he fidgets under his adoring gaze, his cheeks aflame. He nods and follows Harry back out of the room. 

He points to the room silently and Harry nods in understanding, making a mental note. "How much did all of this cost?," he asks, taking a feel at one of the dark, shiny doors as they pass it. Harry looks over at him and opens a door, gesturing for Louis to go in. 

"About three million," he shrugs, and Louis' mouth pops open, in surprise of the price tag and because Harry has just led him into what appears to be the livingroom. With a huge, black leather couch shaped like a capital L, a fancy light fixture, a huge TV, and the wall looks like it's been painted with tiny stars. "But I think it's worth it. Everything is top of the line and the highest standard. We got forty acres too, for the young ones, once they can walk. I've had them put a fence around it so we don't have to worry about them running off," Harry says and Louis sighs, almost dreamily. 

He's thought of everything, Louis inwardly thinks. "Wow," he says aloud, and Harry looks over at him, surprised by the praise. He looks back outside with a smug look on his face and he's glowing. Louis smiles to himself, smug himself that he has such an effect on the gang leader. "This is so beautiful," he adds, hesitantly stroking Harry's arm. Harry quietly thanks him and pulls him away from the livingroom. 

"You've seen the kitchen already, so─oh, I'm sorry," he says as his cellphone starts ringing and he takes a few steps back, turning away from Louis and putting it to his ear. Louis stands quietly and waits for a minute, listening to Harry growl into the phone, cursing colorfully every few words. It's surprising to Louis that he hasn't swore directly at him once. "─Not taken care of yet? Chandlers, do you not understand─No─No! You know what, I want you out of here by... two o'clock. I'm shipping you to the U.S., get your passport ready, your headed to Ohio," Louis looks at the wall clock and pities the faceless Chandlers. It's 1:48 right now. Louis startles when he looks away from the clock and his very tall soulie is directly in front of him. His fists are bunched up, Louis notes, but his face is soft towards Louis, apologetic. "I'm really sorry, babe. I have to go take care of a few things at the Den. This is crucial, I wouldn't just leave for no reason, okay?," he asks, trying to get Louis' consent.

"Okay," Louis whispers, wringing his fingers together, messing with the fabric of his watcher. He watches as Harry bustles around, grabbing gear and guns galore. He finds his way back to the living room and slowly sits on the soft leather couch, his mind wondering. Is their whole relationship going to center around Harry getting phone calls that whisk him away? What happens when Louis is very heavily pregnant and needs Harry there, and he's working? What happens when he needs a late night cuddle and his only option is a pillow or bunched up blanket? 

He literally squeaks when Harry's scruffy face is suddenly pressed to his cheek in a fleeting kiss. Louis blushes and looks up at him. He does look devilishly handsome wearing leather. Emphasis on the 'devilishly'.

"When I get back," Harry says slowly, with promise, "We can go on our first date. You can pick the place. Pick out what you want to wear and be ready by five, okay? You can wear something that I bought you, but you're more than welcome to get anything out of my closet, too. I had it fully stocked. I wasn't expecting to meet my soulie so soon. Have a look around, I'll be back soon. Bye," Harry kisses his other cheek and his glasses will probably melt because his face is so hot. 

He waits for all sounds of Harry to quiet before he makes his way upstairs, smiling softly. 

+

Harry drums his fingers on the steering wheel of his car as he drives. He's so ticked off at that no-brain Chandlers. He finds the beat to 'Smile Like You Mean It' by The Killers and he sighs quietly, very happy that Louis likes the type of music he does. Louis just generally makes him happy. He feels sort of ridiculous. He's not what most consider 'warm'. He's very demanding and definitely a perfectionist. But with Louis, he would probably find a smear of spaghetti on his shirt to be a work of art fit for a museum. 

You don't have to be very exquisite to recognize how handsome Louis is, Harry figures, making a turn towards the Den, He is the type of beautiful that homeless people give their money to see. The type of beautiful that, if he were around in the Renaissance, would inspire songs and sculptures, immortalizing him for people throughout the ages to admire. But people aren't like that anymore. Nobody really cares that much about beauty, just what they can get out of the person. Louis is the kind of beautiful that would steer people to ignoring their dates just to lie with him. And Harry knows that, too. That's why he's so clingy and protective of him. They've only went out in public once, but he still feels the hot jealousy in his veins from that first guy ogling him.

He stops tapping the steering wheel and tightens his grip on it. He bites his bottom lip as he enters the familiar part of town. The crossroad where all the four gangs merge. Harry's is the largest and most powerful. Poe's is the second, and he's so envious of Harry. Third is a woman, Thelma. She and her people mainly keep to theirselves, like Harry's. Fourth and the smallest and weakest is the most arrogant group. That's who Harry is having problems with, the gang led by a young guy called Williams. 

He can see the bullet holes in buildings as he drives by. Only the desperate live here. Children die walking to the bus. They starve just as often. It's not living. Harry, secretly, donates a ton of his money back to the communities. Few have noticed, but living standards have started to get better.

He drives with tunnel vision, trying to ignore the poverty around him. He isn't heartless. He doesn't make another sound until he gets to the house where the meeting on the Den is going to be held. He doesn't have to search for a parking spot, everyone knows not to take his. There's three people waiting for him outside of the Web, which is what they call the meeting building, because it's perfectly in the middle of the crossroads and it weaves webs everyone together. "How's he settling?," asks Jesy, not giving Harry a moment to say anything. He crosses his arms but she doesn't back down. 

"I moved him into the house today. We went shopping earlier and got him a few things. We're... we're going on out first date at five," Harry says. He knows he can't be rude to the fireier. She's something he can use if Louis ever gets terribly homesick. And the girl has always been a very good, clean member of the gang. "I told him that he could decide where we go, but do you have any, like, tips on how to make him feel more comfortable around me? I kinda... I did something bad and I don't think he trusts me like he did the first day," he says and her eyes brows furrow. 

"What did you do to him?," she says, putting her arms on her hips. The dominate part of Harry's personality kicks in and he doesn't appreciate her tone. He takes a step forward and the other two people─Liam and Michael─step forward in case Harry loses control of his element again. 

"I don't like your tone, ma'am. What happens in between us is going to stay between him and I. You might be his friend, but I am his soulie and your leader. So watch your tone," he says lowly and she swallows her pride and nods, blinking quickly. "Good. Now let's get this meeting started. The sooner we get this over with the better..."

+

Harry lugs himself up the stairs, disarming the alarm before he even steps in. Might as well spare Louis a fright. He throws his belts of knives a gun onto the kitchen table, discarding his leather jacket on the coat rack that he knew he'd need. "I'm home!," he shouts, and he hears a surprised yelp somewhere upstairs and chuckles to himself, walking over to the fridge, impressed that Liam stocked it precisely like he ordered. He pulls out a cup of apple juice where he usually would have gotten a beer. 

He hears a door open and he assumes it's the door to the stairs. He leans against the table and waits for Louis as he hears his quiet footfalls echo through the spacious house. He smiles widely at him as he bash fully enters the kitchen, his hands are buried in the too long sleeves of one of the jumpers Harry saved from his younger years. It says 'Teenage Runaway', which does seem fitting, considering Louis is literally a teenage runaway. "Is this too casual? I...," Louis drops off, nudging his new pair of Vans against his ankle, where the hem is rolled up, showing off his ankle tattoos and vicious looking bruises. Harry's eyebrows furrow. 

"No, you look amazing, perfect. But, does your leg hurt? Your arm? Your arm was pretty bad... Liam was saying something about infections and... amputating," he says, and Louis' mouth bobs. He didn't know that. He shakes his head though. He doesn't feel any pain, he took some medicine while Harry was away. It made him sleepy so he napped for a while. "Okay...," Harry says unsurely, and looks down, "I'm just going to change then we can go" Louis nods and sits down on the counter. Harry picks up his apple juice bottle and takes it with him. Louis stiffens under his touch when he kisses his cheeks again, leaving the kitchen. 

It takes him about twenty seconds to breath out and he slumps down, trying to calm down. This is his first date. And he doesn't know where to go. Harry told him that he could decide where to go, but he's never been to this part of England, he doesn't even know what the name of the town is. He twiddles the sleeves to Harry's jumper while he waits. It only takes about five minutes before Harry's heavy steps are coming through the hallway, and he's opening the door. "You look good," Louis says, not being able to stop himself. He blushes scarlet and Harry smirks. 

"You look better, love. But, thank you. And, have you decided where you want to go?," he asks and Louis blushes darker, hoping Harry won't be too angry. 

"I─I don't know my way around here, I don't know anywhere to go," he swallows, flinching when Harry suddenly moves his hand, and he breathes out a sigh of relief when he face palms himself on the forehead. 

"Yeah, yeah sorry I forgot about that. Don't worry about it, I know my way around this town, I had Clifford send me a map of everything. There's this really nice restaurant about fifteen minutes from here we'll go to, and there's a skating rink across from it," Harry offers, Louis nods.


	8. uncover

story: seven minutes

part: eight // uncover

_______

Louis smiles at Harry as he helps him into the car with his good arm. As he buckles his seatbelt, he wonders whether Harry is generally going to be this nice to him or if he’s just buttering him up to get back in his good books. Harry doesn’t take long to come around, and he has his key in hand, something else, Louis notices. “What is that?,” he asks curiously, licking his bottom lip without thinking about it. Harry grins at him and shows him the object, Louis smiles widely at Harry’s thoughtfulness. He grabbed The Killers CD from the house. “Thank you,” he says politely as Harry puts it in, clicking the skip button until he lands it on the song Human. He remembered, Louis croons in his head, pouting his lip with a smile.

Harry grins at his cheesiness and pokes his bottom lip with his finger. Louis rears back in surprise, and blinks at Harry, quite embarrassed. He should be over this by now! “Okay… are you ready for dinner?,” Harry asks, turning the steering wheel tight to get around the bush that he parked beside. Louis is thankful that he’s not dwelling on his flinch. He nods and smiles at Harry, directing his eyes out the window a few seconds later. “Looks like it’s gonna rain again,” Harry points out, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He’s never really been very good at polite small talk, he’s more of a man of big words, choosing them wisely so they pack the biggest impact possible, not wasting his words. He doesn’t figure he should talk to his soulie like that, though.

Louis nods and feels the mixed feelings that are very familiar. He hates thunderstorms—hates. But he loves the water, it makes him more secure knowing there’s water near him, especially if there is more than an abundance. “I like the rain. Especially in the summer, it’s very warm,” he tells him. He fells kind of awkward telling things about himself on the way to a date. Everyone alive has to go on their first date, and it adds pressure knowing that the person you’re going on a date with is who you’re going to marry—no question. “What’s the name of the restaurant?,” he asks when Harry doesn’t say anything else.

The gang leader reaches forward and turns the volume down to the radio by just a bit, licking his lips, turning his windshield wipers on as it starts to drizzle. “It’s a place called Ramona’s. It serves burgers and fries, and they are in American quantities. I was going to take you to a fancy restaurant, but I want our relationship to start off simple, is that alright with you?,” Harry says, and he doesn’t sound condescending at the end, he really wants to know whether Louis would prefer a fancy restaurant.

Louis smiles to himself. “No, no, no—that sounds perfect. I’m really not dressed for anything fancy and I do agree with starting out simple,” he states, fiddling with his thumbs. Harry hums and turns his left blinker on, turning.

“I’ve noticed,” he says and Louis isn’t sure if he’s trying to be condescending there. He knows that he’s referencing to the fact that Louis wants to use separate beds, but he doesn’t know if he’s saying it in a patronizing fashion. There wasn’t any venom in the words, it sounded sort of flat, but Louis has seen him be borderline snaky with his workers and he can’t really tell if he’s doing that with him, so he just shrinks down in his seat and silences himself. He makes an inward pact to not make another sound until Harry has made a move to show him that he wants him to. Turns out he only has to be quiet for about ten minutes before Harry is pulling his car into the parking lot of some sort of entertainment complex. He looks outside from his slumped state and can see a mall—much smaller and less fancy than the one earlier today—and a cinema and the bowling alley Harry told him about and across the street is what looks like an old fashioned ‘30s American diner. He catches Harry’s gaze and does a double take, looking at Harry curiously as he looks at him curiously. “You’ve turned awfully clammed up,” he says, tilting his head to the side like a puppy would.

Louis shrugs and Harry raises an eyebrow, silently requesting that he tell him what’s wrong. Louis blushes on his ears and chuckles nervously, running a shaking hand through his hair. “I—uh, s–sorry. I’m just nervous,” he says. He’s not lying, he is nervous, but he doesn’t want to admit to being intimidated by his soulie. “Is that where we’re going?,” he squeaks, referencing to the diner in front of him by looking at it. Harry looks over too and smiles, nodding. He forgets about Louis’ quietness and pulls the key from the ignition, the windshield wipers stop automatically and the CD stops playing. Louis leans down to roll the hem of his jeans up higher, as to not get them wet on the rain dampened cement, and Harry gets to his door before he can even rise up. As Harry helps him down it occurs to him that Harry is always going to request to open his door for him. He seems to be internally debating with holding Louis’ hand, but Louis starts walking before he can make a decision. The smaller boy just doesn’t feel comfortable with long term skin-to-skin contact with Harry yet. He’s okay with fleeting touches, like touching his cheek or helping him down or up places, but if the contact is constant, that doubles the chances of him getting hurt again. And he really doesn’t fancy getting anything singed or sliced off. “Are you Leigh-Anne?,” Harry asks as a beautiful, tan waitress opens the door for them and she nods.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Styles,” she smiles nervously, her bright red lips twitching a bit, “And we’ve got your table ready, if you’d follow me” Louis looks over at Harry and takes initiative, following the waitress to the table centre of the room. Louis startles when he sees the view outside of the adjacent side of the building from where they came in. There’s a little pond with a small waterfall. There’s wild flowers and green grass growing around it and Louis smiles, very pleased with the scenery. “So you like it?,” Harry chuckles, putting it in his mind to bring Louis here again sometime. Louis nods happily, putting his good hand on the table and his hurt one on his stomach. Seeing him cradle his tummy, Harry can’t help but assume that Louis is going to look very good pregnant.

Louis hums to the song that plays quietly through the speakers, Chandelier by Sia, and he bites hs lip, his eyes wide and excited. “This place is wonderful… thank-you for bringing me here,” he says bashfully, looking up at Harry and then at the waitress introduced as Leigh-Anne, smiling at her as she pulls out a small note pad from his utility belt, a pencil from her hair. Harry looks at Louis wonderstruck as the girl asks what they’d like to drink. “Sprite, please,” Louis smiles with closed lips, and Harry startles when they both look at him.

Leigh-Anne blinks in surprised. She’s never seen her leader this enchanted looking. Albeit she’s only seen him a few times in meetings that are all the way in the States, but he always looks do gruff and serious, very strictly concentrated. He looks from Louis to her and she straightens up to gain composure in front of her boss. “Uh,” he says slowly, “I’ll have a black coffee and a water” She quickly jots it down and scurries off, her high-heels clicking, making Harry’s eyes twitch. He calls over the owner, he recognizes her from the brief go-over Michael gave him of the town. She trips over herself trying to get to him in a timely fashion, blushing as she bumps into chairs. She doesn’t get a peep out before Harry is commanding her, “Have Miss Pinnock remove her shoes, would you. I would hate for them to ruin my mood and dishevel this whole evening” The woman, Ramona, nods quickly, her bouncy red curls moving up and down as she hustles to the kitchen, following after Leigh-Anne.

Louis looks over at Harry in surprise. That was kind of extreme, he thinks to himself, but he doesn’t outwardly say anything, he just sits and tries to act oblivious to Harry looking him over. Neither boy says a word until the drinks come out. Louis looks down at the poor girls feet and sighs in slight disgust for his soulie’s actions. Her feet are bare and she’s walking on her tip-toes, her lips pressed in a straight line. “Thank you,” Louis says, putting an apology in the tone of his voice and she curls her lips a little, nodding her head politely. She hands Harry his white cup of black coffee and water, visibly swallowing and setting the drink tray on an adjacent table, resurfacing her notepad and pencil.

“Are you ready to place your order’s?,” she gives a tight smile, but Harry’s attention is still on Louis. He’s dumbfounded by the tone he talked to the girl in. She’s just a servant, she doesn’t deserve special treatment.

“Chef’s choice for both of us,” Harry says, not looking away from Louis, who has taken notice. Leigh-Anne says a quiet ‘yes, sir’ before shuffling back into the kitchen, shaking her head slightly. Louis purses his lips then sucks them in, looking down as he continues to feel Harry’s gaze on his face. “What was that?,” he finally asks, crossing his arms over the table, the sudden movement startling Louis. He can feel the tension and he doesn’t exactly feel safe. “Why did you say it like that?,” Harry asks, purely curious.

“Uh…,” Louis swallows, “Um. Well, I felt bad. You might’ve gone just a little too hard on her for my taste…” Harry blinks and raises both of his eyebrows in surprise. He’s never really considered himself to push people too far. That’s what Poe and Williams do. He swallows and coughs, that thought circulating. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself,” Louis says to change the subject, and that startles Harry worse. He blinks a few times and Louis freezes up, “You don’t have to tell me about it…” Harry jolts awake then, shaking his head.

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine. I’m just a little out of it today. Okay… okay, what do you want to know?,” Harry asks, taking a slow and leisure sip out of his coffee. Louis slumps back in his seat a little, he didn’t think this through.

He says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Where are your parents?,” he. Himself, freezes up at his own foolishness, but his anxiety deflates a little when Harry doesn’t make any signs of distress, he just washes the coffee down with a bit of water and coughs, licking his top lip, then his bottom.

“My mum is in America… I don’t want to say exactly where while we’re in public. She was from England, hence my accent, but once my dad died we moved to the states and I’ve been there and a little bit of everywhere else except for England since. The closest I got was Ireland. My dad died when I was about… three or four, so I have been gone for a while. You we’re probably born when I was in Ireland, because that’s where I was for a while. Speaking more of my father, he was the previous leader of this gang. And his father before him. He… he got shot in our yard while I was in school. I saw the blood on the grass when I got home. My mum tried to run from my prophesy, the future leader, but it caught up to me. I started running it from the States, but I had to come here for business. I think this is where we will settle. If you want to know more, I’d be happy to tell you in private. How about you tell me about yourself?,” he says, looking around constantly, making sure nobody is listening.

Louis, processing everything, nods and swallows a shallow sip of Sprite, surprised by the curious look on Harry’s face. “Well, uh, I’m my mother’s only child. I have six siblings, but they’re all adopted. My dad died, too. Car crash when I was still in the hospital, days after my birth. Mm, there’s not really that much to me, I’m sorry. I’m really kind of boring. I, uh, I have–had three best mates; Zayn, Jesy and Niall. I already miss everyone… but I have to keep them safe. Okay, um, I was top of my year, advanced elementing. I was on the footie team, captain actually, and that was good fun. That’s all really,” Louis pitters of, blushing from his lack of backstory.

“That’s not all there is to you, Lou. The longer I get to know you, the more that I understand that you just can’t be put into words. I’m sorry about your father, too. I know you were just a baby, but I also know how hard it is to not have a father figure,” Harry says gently and Louis nods, struck by his words and grateful for his understanding. He is absolutely still curious to Harry’s past, but he does also understand why it can not be discussed out here. So they just sit and enjoy the quietness. Louis watches the waterfall and Harry watches Louis until Leigh-Anne brings the tray of food. Two gigantic platters of fried chips and hamburgers with meat as thick as three of Louis’ fingers. “Thank-you,” Harry says, turning to Leigh-Anne and she smiles, slightly stunned, “And you can put your shoes back on, don’t worry about it” Then her eyes widen in actual shock, but she nods and rushes to the kitchen to get off of the cold tiles. Louis looks at Harry is surprise too and he smiles at him proudly, and Harry actually turns slightly pink with a content glow. 

Louis smiles wider and takes a fry off of his plate, putting it to his lips and chewing it, happily surprised at the lack of greasiness. “This is very good,” he compliments. He knows that Harry didn’t cook it, but he also knows that the older man loves compliments. He figures that he didn’t get a lot of them growing up. Harry—of course—smiles widely, his dimples poking into his cheeks, “Tell my about yourself” Louis doesn’t mean to sound redundant, but he’s hungry for more.

Harry lowers his hamburger from his mouth and chews, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Like I said, I got the gang w—”

“No. Tell me about yourself. Not the gang. What do you enjoy to do? What’s your favorite color? What’s your favorite number?,” Louis says, trying to take a bite out of his burger, which is much too big for him, and he scowls playfully as Harry laughs at him harmlessly, handing him a napkin. 

“Hm… I think my favorite color is either orange or blue… they’re both very beautiful. I’ve never put much thought into my favorite number… but I’d probably have to say seven. And you want to know what I enjoy to do… hm… I do enjoy golfing quite a lot. I don’t get much of a chance to do it, but I do enjoy it. And I enjoy… mm… swimming. And running. I definitely enjoy being in charge. I like helping people, too,” Harry rattles off and his eyes light up when he sees the interest in Louis’.

“What do you enjoy about those things?,” Louis asks, swallowing the thick meat, taking a sip of his drink as the song changes to Fancy by Iggy Azalea. Louis loves this song, he loves this food, he loves the scenery and he’s really starting to grow on the boy sitting in front of him. Harry swallows a fry and tilts his head to the side, thinking on it.

He sips his coffee quietly and sets the mug back down. “I enjoy swimming, I think, because that’s one of the only things I was allowed to do when I was younger. My mum’s flat complex had a pool and she trusted me to be safe. It is odd considering I’m part fireier… but I do enjoy the freedom of the water, also the danger of floating in something that could potentially kill you. And I just find golfing calming, therapeutic. Serine. I like running because I like to think of myself as a machine, and I enjoy keeping myself healthy. I think it’s obvious to you why I like to be in charge. I like to know that my say matters, that people take my breath for something of worth. That feels really good, considering I had next to no say in what happened to me when I was growing up. I did not have an easy childhood. Again, it’s things that I do not want to discuss in public, and I’ll probably have to wean myself into talking about it in private. And lastly… I love helping people. I donate four million every year to all the communities with charities. I help fund orphanages and things of that nature,” Harry says and Louis’ mouth is sort of bobbing in surprise.

He closes it as soon as he catches himself and Harry chuckles lightly at him

+

“I’m telling you now, I’m not the best…,” Louis mutters, and he knows Harry chooses to stay quiet about the fact that he picked up the pink, 5 pound ball. Being tiny is just in his genetics. 

“I don’t think anybody here is the best,” Harry points out, looking around. The bowling alley is relatively empty, aside from a little four year old girl and her dad four lanes over. If they weren’t here, Louis would have guessed that Harry rented out the whole place. “Just do your best, nobody is here to judge you. We’re here to have fun,” Harry reminds him with a chuckle, stepping up behind him. Louis sighs and nods, licking his lips and narrowing his eyes in concentration. 

He takes off at a good speed, and he’s releasing the ball when Harry coughs extremely loud. He squeaks and trips up, fumbling so bad that the ball goes into the lane beside theirs, going into the gutter. Louis regains his balance and scowls at Harry with narrowed eyes. The taller man is looking around innocently and Louis has half of a mind to defy his cup of water onto him. But. He refrains himself. “Cheers,” he snarls with fake venom, crossing his arms as Harry takes himself and his 15 pound ball to the lane. He doesn’t even take off running, he just extends his arm and tosses it. Louis scoffs again as he gets all but three. He rolls his eyes when he gets a spare, making a show of making a face at him as he turns around in victory.


	9. unceremonious

story: seven minutes

part: nine // unceremonious

___

“You’re just getting lucky!,” Louis laughs, scrunching his nose up. They’re on their third round and Harry has won both of the previous ones and victory this time round is nearly unattainable. Harry booms a laugh at his failure cry and he makes very dramatic kissy faces at him. Louis scoffs and plops down in the chair attached to their table. 

“It’s not luck, dear—”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but I need to speak with you,” says a man, and Louis can recognize him as the dad who was bowling with the small girl just moments ago. He looks around and doesn’t see her anywhere. He raises up as the hairs on his arms do and he looks around.

“What is it, Sims?,” Harry says harshly and the man flinches. Harry does not appreciate having their date interrupted.

The man, Sims, flounders for a second, looking between Harry and Louis, finally whispering, “Williams is trying to get the Den again. Harlon is dead, one of his guys killed him while he was outside standing guard,” Sims says and Harry takes a defensive stance. His bones seem to expand, he looks like he’s grown nearly a full head taller and Louis swallows harshly, trying to make himself smaller. He never would’ve thought their date would turn into this. 

“Harlon is dead? Great—okay. I have to get down there… Lou—God! I don’t know what I’m suppose to do!,” he growls in frustration, bringing a hand up to drag it nearly violently through his hair. He turn to Louis and doesn’t give him the chance to flinch, he just grabs him tight and pulls him to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist protectively. Louis fights the urge to wiggle away. His natural instincts make him want to burrow into Harry’s chest, it’s the magnetism of the soulie bond. “What should I do?,” he whispers, and Louis isn’t quite positive he’s not just talking out loud, but he answers anyway.

“Take me with y—”

“No,” Harry says without missing a beat, tightening his hold on Louis’ lithe form. “No, I promised you that you wouldn’t have to see blood and that’s a promise that I’m going to uphold. I—”

“Take me… with you,” Louis says slowly, deliberately. 

Harry blinks down at him and Sims switches feet nervously. He doesn’t surely know what’s going on and he feels confused seeing his leader show apathy for this one person. “I can’t surely. You’re very hurt already. You’re worse hurt and it’s my fault. Don’t make me take you to a place where you could get even worse hurt,” Harry whispers. He’s only known Louis for about five days, but he can tell by his tone of voice when there’s no use in arguing. Louis looks up at him from his coddle up position in Harry’s large arms.

“Are you calling me a cowar—”

“I can’t even move my arm without you flinching away, Louis! You’re not trained in this and I don’t want you out there, you’re too precious,” Harry says and Louis angrily blushes. Harry noticed all of those startled jolts away. Okay. He still wants to go.

He wrestles his way out of Harry’s grip and winces when his arm gets jostles. “That’s mighty selfish of you, you know. People are dying right now are you’re more concerned with keeping one person alive because it would benefit you. I can help, I know I’m hurt, but I still have my abilities. Let me help,” he says quickly, the frown not leaving his face. Harry angrily looks around like there’s anything him that could fix this situation. 

After another few heavy moments, Harry throws his hands up in the air and Louis clenches his teeth to not flinch, to not give him that one more reason. “Let’s go,” he says, walking away without saying anything else. Sims nods obediently and follows him out of the alley, Louis just blinks and Harry doesn’t turn around. Louis sighs and starts at a jog to catch up with them. They’re already at the cars when he finally does reach them, and even though Harry’s face is contorted in rage and his grip on the handle is so tight it’s moving the blood away from his knuckles, Harry is still holding the door opened for Louis. 

+

The car ride to the infamous Den isn’t filled with comfortable silences or buzzing of The Killers on the CD radio, it’s filled with a tension and Harry tapping his fingers on the steering wheel harshly, his bottom lip swelling under the pressure of his teeth mashing down on it. Louis can see Sims behind them through the side mirror, and a few other cars have joined. None of them try to pass Harry so Louis assumes that they are all well aware of who’s vehicle is who’s. Louis licks his lips as they say ‘goodbye’ to nice suburban yards and ‘hello’ to broken down neighborhoods with yellow glass windows and grass that looks like a waterier had gotten a hold of it.

Louis notices Harry’s grip on the steering wheel get even tighter as they get into worse and worse neighborhoods. He remembers what he said about wanting to help people and he can figure out that he’s probably thinking a million a minute about how he wishes he could help them right now, before it’s too late. He takes a chance and puts his hand on his arm, smoothing it over with his thumb. Harry heaves a breath at that and sends him a thankful smile. “How far away are we?,” he whispers, biting down on his lip as they get to the worse part of town yet. There’s what looks like bullet holes in almost every building, through wood and concrete brick alike. Harry doesn’t say anything, he just turns one more sharp turn and hit’s the breaks, touching Louis’ hand with his. He takes the key out of ignition and Louis swallows, letting him open the door for him.

He helps him down by his forearm and visually keeps him close as everybody starts parking around them. Every car is expensive, Louis notes, relieved he isn’t in his embarrassingly old car. They stand side by side and wait as everyone piles out, at least two people getting out of each car. Harry silently leads them into a building, keeping his arm around Louis’ waist. He puts his thumb over some sort of scanner and something clicks on the other side of the door. He opens it one handed and everyone comes in after them. Louis looks around in surprise. The outside of the building looked so busted and used, but the inside looks so modern and clean, all sterile whites and dark blacks contrasting together. “This way,” Harry instructs people as the mill around in confusion.

They regroup quickly and follow Harry and Louis deeper into the building. 

Louis finds himself getting closer to Harry as the sounds of guns going off and people talking fills his ears. Harry hold him by the shoulders, breathing out of his nose. He uses his thumb to unlock another door and as soon as it opens the loud noises explode into everyone’s ears. “What’s going on?,” Louis shouts over the noise, plugging his ears. Harry points at something, seemingly unfazed by the noise. Louis looks in the direction and sees people shooting handheld guns in what looks like a firing range. He nods and lets Harry drag him farther into the building, and he stops walking abruptly, causing Harry to look at him in concert. The small boy walks forward and Harry’s arms drop from him from not paying attention and Louis runs forward, grabbing a girl by her shoulder, “Je–Jesy?”

Her eyes widen and her lips draw down, she looks—rightfully—guilty. “Hiya, Lou. I… I see you found your soulie,” she says, biting down on her lip. It looks bruised. In fact, her whole face looks bruised. Her left eye is swollen, her lip is busted, her nose is purple and it looks like her ear is nicked. All hostility drains out of Louis at her state and he collapses forward, engulfing her in a hug. She cries out in agony as he slams into the bullet hole on her arm. He automatically retracts and looks at her with big, watery eyes. “Oh, no, Lou… Don’t cry over me, I’m okay, love. This kinda thing just happens around here,” she says and he starts crying. He didn’t want anybody he loves to get hurt and one of his best friends is already in his soulie’s gang.

“How l–long?,” Louis hiccups as Harry catches up, smoothing his hands over his hair, carding his fingers through the soft down.

“How long what, baby?,” she asks softly, giving him a ginger hug. He pats her arms gently and cries again. He tries so hard not to cry, he knows that he shouldn’t cry in front of these people, but his walls have been built in vain and he has to mourn. Harry looks down at him conflicted, not quite sure what to do for the quietly hysterical boy.

Louis sniffles and looks up. “How long have you been in the gang?,” Louis asks, clutching at straws. She sighs deeply and looks up at Harry for help. He’s not looking at her though, he’s looking at his crying soulie, internally battling himself. “How long, Jesy,” he says, stronger now, less sniffly.

She sighs again and nudges him by his shoulder, “C’mon, let’s go sit down and talk. I bet Harry has some business to attend to. Harry opens his mouth at that, about to protest, but Jesy tilts her head and gently hushes him in a way that few can. “I’ve got him. He’s my best friend, I won’t let anything happen to him, I couldn’t let anything happen to him. Go, on…,” she says, pulling Louis from Harry, who still looks hesitant, “Harry, I’ve got hi–”

“I will be back here in forty-five minutes to collect you. From right here. Be back to this table before then. Be careful,” Harry says sternly to Louis. If he wasn’t in such a fragile state, maybe he would have argued with being ordered like that, but maybe not, because he knows that Harry’s doing what’s best. He nods his head and closes his eyes while Harry ducks down and kisses his left cheek, leaving it with a fleeting touch from his fingers, turning around without looking back, he’s stay if he looked back.

Louis breathes in a shaky breath and sits down in a chair placed beside the table Jesy led them to. He waits for Harry to vanish into the crowd before turning to Jesy. He sniffles a little and uses the sleeve to Harry’s Teenage Runaway jumper. He watches Jesy sit down and automatically asks, “Is Zayn here? Niall? Ple—”

“They’re not here,” she says automatically, shaking her head quickly, “It’s just me, I don’t think they even know of the gang” Louis almost sighs in relief, but he’s not completely relieved.

“How long have you been in here?,” he asks, running his fingers through hid hair, ignoring the gazes that they are receiving from a few of the other gang members. Jesy presses her lips in a flat line and rolls her shoulders, nervous under Louis’ curious glare.

“Since I was fifteen,” she says, wincing as Louis chokes on his tongue, putting his good arm on the table to stabilize himself, cradling his hurt one to his chest. “What happened to your arm? Is that what Harry did? I’ll kill him…,” Jesy says quickly, rising up out of her seat. Louis gurgles in pain as she grabs his bandaged arm and starts looking it over. Without asking, she starts peeling off the cotton layers, and she turns white once she get enough off to see his skin. “Oh, my God, Louis! Harry did do this!,” she cries out. Louis furrows his eyebrows and looks down at his arm, making a small ‘oh’ sound.

His arm looks like it has a red lightning bolt crawling up about four inches of his inner forearm. It looks a lot deeper than it had when Poe’s guy did it, but the skin around the electric currents are already healing, the skin peeling off grotesquely. “It doesn’t hurt unless it’s touched. Liam sent over a whole shebang of medicines for me to take. Most of them are numbing. Jesy looks up at him and then back down at his arm. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the pain or the visual of some of his arm tissue, but the expansive lightning bolt does like kind of beautiful. “So, how did you get into a gang at fifteen?,” Louis asks, aware of the fact that she thinks she’s steered the conversation away.

“The same way everyone here gets put in this gang. Our parents. Or safety. My reason was my mum. All of my siblings are in too, there’s Jade right there. Joseph is coming this way. I don’t know where the rest are, I think they are at the Den,” she says, referring to the girl at the dart board across the room, then at the boy who is definitely walking towards them. They wait for him to reach him before they say anything else.

Louis knows Joseph, he’s seen him at Jesy’s house a few times. He just looks much more threatening in the leather and covered in bruises, just like Jesy. Louis looks around quickly and notices the pattern. “Why is everyone bruised up?,” he asks, and both of the Nelsons beside him look around, too, then turn back to the small man.

“This is the Chisel. Where we go when we’re hurt and can’t do anything for a while. Can I let you in on a secret, mate? There’s a—”

“Joseph–!”

“—war going on here. We’re all apart of it. Not to sound like a creepy hermit, but I can tell this is going to be bigger than people are talking about,” Joseph says, ignoring his sister’s warnings. She punches him with her good arm and he winces, “Jessica!” She scowls at him as he rubs at his arms.

“He’s not a part of the gang–!”

“It doesn’t matter, Jesy! This is going to effect everybody,” he whispers. Louis’ eyes widen as his nose starts to drip blood, but nobody points it out until it’s in his mouth and he tastes it. “Great! Great, okay, I’m going to go get a wet flannel from Sherman, I’ll catch up with you guys later…,” he mutters angrily, cupping his hands under his jaw to catch the blood. Jesy sighs, watching him walk away and Louis looks at her arm, surprised by how pale she looks, her tattoos look 3D on the flesh. 

“What happened to you?,” Louis asks, surprised with himself that he hadn’t asked that earlier. She turns away from Joseph and looks back at Louis crossing her arms over her chest, pursing her swollen lips.

She blinks a few times. “There’s this place called the Den. I don’t know how much Styles has told you, but it’s this little civilization where literally eighty percent of the London dwelling gang lives. It’s a strong hold, and it’s crucial that we keep it if we want to remain the powerhouse of the four gangs. Two of the rival gangs are working together to get it from us, they’re attacking our people on the streets. They’ve even shot some of their own, just thinking it was us. They’re ruthless, they don’t care about the blood loss or casualty number. They want the Den and I don’t see them stopping anytime soon. Joseph wasn’t too far off about it being a war, but he shouldn’t say that too loud around here,” Jesy says, walking Louis towards the shooting rang, handing him some blue ear muffs, “I got jumped coming from dinner a few nights ago. I was in a group so it wasn’t that bad, but I got shot. So now I’m here” Louis wants to say something else, but she’s already putting her earmuffs on.

She picks up a gun from the table and looks in it, checking for bullets. She pulls it back, unlocking it, and looks at Louis, making sure he’s ready, then turns back and fires it. Louis flinches each time she fires in, and his ears start ringing after about twenty minutes. She has shredded five bulleye targets. “Is that hard, getting it in the middle?,” he asks as she removes her muffs, a proud look on her face.

She shakes her head. “I’ve been practicing for a while. And this is a weaker gun than I’m used to, I can only use one arm right now. You wanna try? It’s easy and I imagine you’ll need to learn how to use one eventually anyways,” she asks, smiling at Louis as he looks at the gun nervously.

“Does it hurt?,” he asks, licking his lips. 

She shrugs her shoulders. “It kicks a little, but it’s weak like I said. Do you want me to demonstrate slowly first?,” she asks, and he nods, they put on their muffs once more. She silently shows him the gun, twisting it around so he can get an explicit look at it, then she shows him how to look to see if it’s loaded. He nods that he understands and she closes it and shows him how to take it out of safety. He nods and she pulls the top back, giving Louis a second to adjust before pulling the trigger. Louis doesn’t flinch this time.

“Okay…,” he says slowly as they remove their earmuffs, pulling them round their necks. He moves a movement to hold the gun and Jesy hands it to him by the handle. “So you check for bullets… take it off safety… pull it ba—”

“Hey!,” a loud, angry voice interrupts Louis from a few meters away. His blood chills and he turns around to see Harry jogging up with his fists clinched by his sides. He takes the gun from him as soon as he catches up and put the safety back on, holding Louis’ arm tightly. Louis struggles to get his arm away, terrified that his good arm will get hurt. “Nelson! What are you thinking? No! I don’t want him holding guns and I never want him to shoot a gun,” he growls, pulling Louis away from the gaping girl. Harry winds through the building with Louis right behind him and he growls when he’s stopped by the man from earlier, Sims. “What?”

Sims looks more terrified than Louis has ever seen a person in his life. “Williams got the Den” Harry drops Louis arm, his blood draining from his face as the anger disappears, replaced with a blank stare. Louis looks around and swallows, nobody is moving.


	10. litter

story: seven minutes

part: ten // litter

_____

Louis scoots closer to Harry as everyone starts shouting. The loudness hurts his already sensitive ears. He feels even more frightened due to how tight Harry is holding him to him - he's not afraid Harry's going to hurt him now, he'e afraid of why Harry is holding him so tight. 

"We need to evacuate," Harry tells Sims, his usually strong voice quavering. "If they infiltrated the Den, the Chisel is next. All of our wounded are here," Harry says, walking back into the building with Louis basically strapped to his body by both of their arms. Harry stops in front of some type of pole with a button on it. He quickly presses it and everybody stops talking and freaking out, turning to their leader. "Listen to me! Everyone able is responsible for getting one person out of here. You are going to the Bunker. You should be safe there," Harry commands and Louis watches as everybody - about fifty people - leaves the room. 

"Where are they going?," Louis whispers as the last twenty get out of the room. Harry sighs heavily and looks around at the room. Abandoned lunches and drinks at the tables, the guns left behind on the range, even a shoe beside the dart board. 

"Right now they're going to the infirmary to collect one person, the ones who can't walk. We've been having practice drills recently, they know what to do. Then we're going to take them to the underground part of our community. It's called the Bunker for a reason, and it's only about seventy minutes from here. It's our best bet," Harry says, dialing a number on his phone as he picks up the guns on the firing range. "I really hate this, but you do need to be able to protect yourself. I assume Nelson taught you how to fire. Here is a holster belt, make quick work of putting it on - yes, Murs, code red ninety-seven. Yes, evacuating as we speak. Have back ups ready inside of the Bunker to help them settle," Harry says on the phone. Louis watches him as he straps the holster belt around his slim waist, nestling the gun on his left him. Harry looks like something unworldly, Louis thinks through his frightened mind. 

"Are we following them? Do we need to help anybody?," Louis asks as Harry puts his phone back in his pocket and grabs his own holster belt, strapping it on and putting his own gun in it. He nicks a few holsters full of bullets and hands one to Louis. 

He shakes his head and grabs Louis' hands, dragging him back towards the doors. "No, for every person who can't walk, there's three that can. Speaking of which, how is your ankle?" Louis looks up at him as they break into a quick paced jog. 

"You know, I can't really complain," he says, trying to keep up with Harry's long legs. He doesn't feel the pain, he figures it's probably the adrenaline and it'll hurt like a son-of-a when he's calmed down. He doesn't see that coming about anytime soon, though. "Where are we going?," he asks as Harry pushes the heavy door opened, flushing in a wave of sunlight. 

"We're going to beat everyone to the Bunker. I'm going to check it out before they get there. It'll take them a moment to get everyone loaded into the trucks we have for this situation. They're semis, more discrete," he says, unlocking the car with his key. He doesn't make a dive for Louis' door, so he opens it for himself, barely closing the door before Harry is jamming it in reverse and peeling out of there. 

+

"I want you to stay in the car," Harry says, and Louis' eyes widen what he notices the blue sparks going up and down Harry's fingers. He swallows but shakes his head. Harry narrows his eyes at him and Louis' eyes widen in self-defense. 

"It'll be better if there's two of us. You saw how I handled those two guys, Harry. I can do it, I'm not letting you go alone," Louis says stubbornly, opening his door before Harry can further protest. He looks around the environment and feels stumped. All that around them is red sand, like they're in a desert. Louis hears Harry's door open and slam shut, then his footsteps approaching him. "Where is it?," Louis asks, crossing his arms over his chest, his hurt one on top. 

Harry finally cracks a small smile and kicks over a rock, which turns out to be hollow and covering a red button. It's always a red button. Louis watches as Harry steps on it, and he yelps when the ground suddenly starts rumbling. He looks up slowly and his eyes widen. 

The red dirt expanse is separating. The more it moves, the more Louis can distinguish what if is. It stops expanding once it's about as wide as a suburban car. Louis peeks in and sees the set of stairs. "There, my dear... is the Bunker," Harry says, taking Louis' hand in his bigger one, "And if you insist on coming down, we need to hurry and get through here, everyone should be arriving in about fifteen minutes" Louis nods and allows himself to be led like a small child. A small child with a deadly weapon attached to his hip. 

"What are we looking for?," he asks, looking around in awe. All of the walls are carved in rock. Harry looks around and stops. 

"Well... anything particularly suspicious. Anything with wires. There's not suppose to be anything with wires down here, so that's a telltale sign. I don't want to have to, but I think we need to split up, cover more ground. Are you okay with that?," Harry says, looking at Louis in distress. He knows he doesn't want to separate, but Louis feels okay with that. 

"Yeah, that fine. I have a weapon on me, I'll be fine," Louis murmurs, waving his hands in the air indifferently. Harry bites his bottom lip and sighs through it. He nods slowly and looks around, grabbing what looks like two oil lamps off a rack on the stonewall. Louis takes it with his good arm and lets Harry light it for him with the flip of a knob. 

"The sunlight only goes so far. These lamps will burn continuously for about two and a half days, but don't take that into effect. Don't get lost, meet me back right here when you are done. I don't care if I'm not back yet, I don't care if everyone has started coming in, stay right here. If somebody tells you to move or tries to order you around, you tell them who you are. There's not a soul in this gang with enough balls to mess with you," Harry says, leading Louis to a two-way split, keeping eye contact determinedly. 

Louis nods, licking his bottom lip hesitantly. It's very dry out here. "Okay. I'll get back here as soon as I can," he nods, surprising Harry by wrapping him in a quick, fleeting embrace, his arms wrapping around Harry's torso. He turns and goes down the opposite hallway without looking back, missing Harry's surprised smile. 

He first realizes that he's really underground when he starts shivering. The sun's warmth has never touched this piece of land, and it shows. It must be freezing temperature down here. He sighs and puts the lantern in front of his face, squinting at the brown light. All the rooms are the same, Louis notices. He checks them all out slowly, looking under mattresses and in cabinets.

He looks and checks until he reaches a dead end. This place is huge, he thinks, wondering if Harry's side is any bigger. He lets the lantern fall to his side, his arm is nearly numb, and he shuffles his way through the newly familiar hallway. He guesses that he got the room wing, where everyone stays and sleeps. There appears to be enough room and beds for over three hundred people at once. 

At the slower, calmer pace now, Louis can feel his ankle starting to ache. He sighs and rolls his eyes at the timing, but winces as it feels like his bone shifts. 

When he gets back to the opening, he's greeted by the whole of the gang who can't walk and people helping them down the stairs either by their shoulders or carrying them. He jumps and spins around when he suddenly feels a grip on his shoulder. "What are you doing down here, kid?," asks a woman, her blonde eyebrows fierce. Louis swallows and looks around for Harry, he's in the snot they agreed on, so is he still scoping out? "Hello?," Louis blinks as the surly woman snaps her fingers in front of his face. 

"Um, I'm here with Harry. Harry Styles. We were checking for wires and... he said that he'd meet me here," Louis says, looking around for Harry again. The woman blinks and she's about to say something when a man comes and whispers something in her ear, pointing at Louis. The man walks off when the woman's mouth pops opened and Louis looks at her in confusion. 

"You're Styles' soulie?," she asks, looking at him head to toe, sizing him up. Louis nods, embarrassed from getting evaluated like that. He knows he's tiny, that he looks weak, but he's not. "Oh, okay... sorry then. Carry on," she mutters, her long blonde hair swooshing in her ponytail as she sways away. Louis looks at her with confusion as his main emotion. 

He jumps when a hand suddenly lands on his shoulder. He turns to meet eyes with Jesy, her eyebrows pulled. "What are you doing down here, Lou? Where's Harry?," she asks, looking around, being able to see over everyone's heads better than Louis could. 

Louis shrugs. "He said to meet him right here and to not move, so I'm going to wait right here and not move," he explains, turning the knob to the lamp off, setting it on the ground. "He should be back any minute, he's just checking the left wing. I looked over the right - it was clean from what I saw," Louis says, his eyes catching on something glittering on Jesy's neck. "Is that the choker I gave you when we were fourteen?," he asks, poking the familiar material with the top of his index finger. 

She looks down at it and furrows her eyebrows because she can't see it. She reaches her arms up, wincing as her bullet wound chafes. She recognizes it immediately, remembers putting it on this morning. "Oh, yeah. It's kinda a good luck charm. Nothing bad ever really happens when I wear it. I don't want to test my luck, so I only wear it when I think it's necessary," she says and Louis can think of half a dozen times she's wore it to school. How often do things like this happen?

Louis jolts when another hand falls on his shoulder for the third time in five minutes. He feels relief to see that it's Harry. He tries to not make any show of him stepping a little closer to him. It's not that he doesn't trust these people, it's just that he really, really doesn't trust these people. He feels pretty safe standing here between his best friend and his soulie, though. "Are you alright, you seem sort of jumpy," Harry murmurs, looking around suspiciously. 

Louis shakes his head, looking up at Harry. "No, people just keep startling me, I'm not used to so many people touching me," he says quietly, in case anybody in the immediate proximity hears and takes offense. Harry nods, pulling Louis by his arm just that little but closer to him. "Did you find anything?," he asks, diverting his attention. He shakes his head and purses his lips. "I didn't either," Louis says without being asked. 

The three of them stand in silence, watching the people mill around them, some unconscious and Louis wonders how long it's been since that people saw anything. What it would be like to go out in one place and wake up in another, especially underground. They look in the same direction as Sims walks up to him, a limping man's arm over his shoulder. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting, sir, but Martin was wondering if you three could get the last of the boxes. It's just breads, so it'll be light," Sims says, trepidatious of his leader's reaction. Harry silently nods and Sims quietly dismisses himself, his head hung slightly. 

"Who is that guy, exactly?," Louis asks as the three of them start back up the stairs. He hides his limp just narrowly, and he disguises his wince from a sudden jolt of pain with a look of curiosity. 

"He's the son of one of my dad's old friends. He's kinda the lower down second in command. His say isn't worth anything, but he's here to give advice. If I was to have died before now, he would've gotten the gang. But now...," Harry stops talking, looking guilty. 

Louis puts it together. "It goes to me," he states. Harry slowly nods. Jesy looks between the pair in surprise. She never - in a million years - would have ever imagined Louis Tomlinson, the small boy who she befriended years ago, would be the heir to a gang. Louis is having the same thoughts. This is mental. "Well it's a good job that you're going to live a good long life," Louis wants to add the fact that they have to get married and have children, but he feels that that might be too much. "Are these the boxes?," Louis asks, lifting the cardboard box labeled 'yeast' into his good arm. It's very light. Harry nods and hands Jesy a box. "How did everyone get in so quickly?," he asks, realizing that they are the last three not underground. 

Jesy starts back towards the Bunker, wanting to get back to Joseph. "Like we said, we've been praci - ," she doesn't even get to finish her sentence before the ground utterly explodes. Fire and stone and human flesh flies in the air, the force of it knocking the three of them to the ground with such force that it winds them. Louis blinks with dots littering the edges of his eyes. He blinks again and looks beside his head. There's a detached human foot - with the shoe still attached - right beside his nose. He breathes in shakily and breathes out slowly as he looses consciousness, the ringing in his ears dissipating as he drifts into numbness.

+

Louis wakes up to the sound of dripping. He sighs deep in his chest and it registers how hard it is to breathe. His eyes fly open as he tries to gasp for breath, panic setting in. He gasps and gasp and shouts out in agony and closes his eyes when a teal scrub wearing person with a face mask rushes in. He doesn't know what they do, but he can slowly feel the weight lifted off of his chest. 

He looks behind him and the person is pulling the needle out of - what appears to be - his IV bag. He gasps a few times and it feels like he's inhaled too much chlorine. "W'here 's 'Arry," he manages to get out through the swelling that seems to have taken to his tongue and lips. The person looks at him in surprise. 

They slowly remove their mouth cover and a beautiful man is unveiled. "Oh," he says in surprise, "You're intelligible, yes, that is very good, very good" Louis blinks at him. His eyelids still feel very heavy, and he'd appreciate knowing where his soulie is before he goes back to sleep. "Mr. Styles is one room over. He woke up about six hours ago - he's been asking about you. Every time I went in his room to refresh his IV. I'll let him know that you're awake and talking," the man, Louis assumes that he's a doctor, smiles. 

"Can't I just go see him?," Louis asks, looking at the doctor in confusion. He looks up from his clipboard, which was originally on Louis' door, and shakes his head. 

"You have sustained some minor head injuries. You've been out for about a day and a half. You have a severely broken ankle and your arm looks like it has an old wound in it. We've got medicines going through you right now that will heal you up fairly quickly and I do not proscribe you getting up," Doc says, his eyes show sympathy for the small lad.

"Can I talk to him at least? Over the phone or something?," he asks desperately. Doc looks conflicted, he sets his clipboard down and sighs. "Please..."

"I'll go and tell him that you are awake. I'll see what I can do...," says Doc, patting Louis' leg and scooping up his clipboard, giving him one last smile, he closes the door behind him. As soon as the handle clicks, Louis' mind starts turning a million a moment. He can't rightly figure out what's going on and he really should have asked the doctor while he had the chance. 

So he just sits in silence for a while. He looks down at his arms in surprise. There's more than just the burn now. His flesh is littered with little holes. They don't hurt, the medicine in effect probably, but they're still startling. He puts a hand to his face and can feel the holes across his face as well. They aren't deep, they'll scab over easily. 

Louis looks up when the door opens, and Doc has a small smile on his face. Louis looks at him blankly until he holds up a cellphone. Louis smiles widely, trying to focus as his eyes are still heavy. "Thank-you," he whispers as he hands it to him, carefully. 

"It's not that big of a deal... we have some lying around in case there's an emergency and we need availability for communication. Just hold down one and it'll call the phone I gave Mister Styles. Might wanna reassure him that you're really awake, he kept yammering at me, would barely let me change his IV bag. I'll send a nurse here in about forty-five minutes to serve you supper, we'll see if you can keep food down," Doc says, patting Louis' foot lightly. He leaves without a word as Louis nods, holding down the number 1 without making another sound. 

It barely rings once before it's picked up, a whoosh going through the receiver as they connect. "Louis?," Harry asks on the other end of the phone. Louis sighs and chews his lower lip, very relieved to hear a familiar voice. He mutters a quiet 'hello', and Harry picks it up like he's a dog with super hearing. "How are you? Are you okay?," he asks, and Louis can hear the concern in his voice. 

"Wha' happ'ned, 'Arry?," Louis asks, coughing after he got the sentence out to try and get the frog out of his throat. 

Harry is silence for a few moments, and Louis can hear his breath shallow, can feel the tension. "Uh... well Murs came in to talk to me a little while ago, while you were still asleep. The-There was a bomb. It was underground. It crumpled the Bunker to a pit," he says, his voice nearly monotone. Louis flushes. 

"Those people-"

"The Den... the Chisel... the Bunker... all of our recourses are unattainable. We're in Ireland right now, love. Jesy is here, too. She got out. I... you'll just have to see her. She was closer to the impact than we were," Harry continues, Louis' eyes water. He sniffles quietly. 

"All those people..."

"We made it out, Lou. We made it out"


	11. livid

story: seven minutes

part: eleven // livid

_____

After nearly an hour of waiting to make sure Louis' food was settled, they let him into Harry's room. His supper wasn't something that would normally be very filling-it bread chunks in warm milk-but he felt filled to the brim after only about three-fourths of the bowl. But they promised him that if he kept his food down the medicine would work faster and he could be moved into Harry's room in thirty minutes. And he needed to speak to Harry immediately.

So here he is, in Harry's room, his eyes closed as his soulie twiddles his hair.

They didn't say a word when Louis got here, they both just collapsed into each other like they've known each other for years. That's what the soulie bond makes you feel like though. Louis has to restrain himself from cuddling into Harry, he figures it's too soon, but Harry can't even try to fight his soulie bond, he's holding Louis so tight to him that the smaller boy is finding it hard to breath. 

"How is Jesy?," Louis asks after a while. He can fell Harry's chest expands on his back as he sighs. Louis moves his head to face the older man and sees that his eyes are closed. He takes that as his chance to look over Harry's face. Like he's seen before, Harry looks so young when he's in a vulnerable state. His face and body-like Louis'-is littered with little tiny, raw holes. The doctor came in to re-clean them before they took him to Harry. He explained that the holes are craters from the impact from debris; rocks, explosives, human bone. Louis shudders and caves in a little, tucking his head under Harry's chin.

"You'll have to see her for yourself... It's... she's not looking too good, babe... She'll live, but...," Louis hushes him by putting a hand on his chest and he gets the message, clamming it. He starts twiddling Louis' hair again and Louis closes his eyes. He barely has them shut for twenty seconds before the darkness takes form. He can see the gore of hundreds of people raining down on him, explicitly the clothed foot that landed beside his head. At the speed it was going, it could have crushed Louis' nose, maybe even his skull. "You get used to it," Harry says, he can feel Louis' breath pick up from his panic.

"What?," Louis chokes, swallowing deeply, his eyes open.

Harry strokes the shell of his ear a few times, humming to him gently. "The gore... I would say you get used to the feeling of the loss, but you don't. It goes with you, but it'll make you stronger," he says quietly, keeping up the soothing pace in Louis' hair. The smaller boy sighs as a few wet streaks crawl down his cheeks. He doesn't want to 'get used to' the gore. He doesn't want to deal with the loss, he wants to go home. "Go to sleep, love. We've got an early morning tomorrow," Harry whispers and Louis nods, he closes his eyes when Harry turn the side lamp off. He still sees it.

+

"-Murs and his guys are the ones that found us, yes. Yes... I've got Lloyd and her people investigating. I do not understand how anybody found the Bunker, much less plated a bomb in the ground of it! Yes, figure it out. No. Yes... okay. Do it and report back to me," Harry says, signing his and Louis' discharge papers, along with their prescriptions. He hangs up with no farewell and puts his-new-phone back into his pants. Michael brought Harry and Louis the clothes and Harry a new phone early this morning. Anything glass broke during the explosion. Except the watchers, of course, they're indestructible. Louis looks down at the wrist garment. 70 more years... But Louis knows how quickly that could change. He blinks in surprise when he looks up to see Harry, Michael, and the doctor all looking at him.

"What?," he blushes, Harry smiles at him.

"I asked if your ankle was feeling okay. Your arm?," the doctor says, putting his clipboard with the release papers down. Louis blink his eyes again and nods, looking down at his bandaged arm. "That's good, that's good. I expect you to make a speedy recovery. Now be careful with that ankle, it's going to take a few weeks to heal. I think it might've been injured before the explosion, and that just shattered it?," he assumes and Louis shudders at the word 'shattered'. It sounds so grotesque. He nods anyways and the man picks his clipboard back up, checking through it one last time. "Okay. I've got you some salves in here that should have your arm fixed within three weeks. But the skin will be broken very easily, you've lost so many layers. What happened with the electricity, if I'm allowed to ask. I saw the lightning shape," he says and Harry stiffens.

Louis smiles at the doctor. "I got into an accident a few days ago... almost a week. Maybe over a week...," he says and the doctor nods, handing Harry the antibiotic list. He, in turn, hands it to Michael, who leaves automatically for the pharmacy on the other side of the room. "Where are we going?," Louis asks Harry as he starts wheeling him out of the hospital, the automatic doors opening so they can get to the wheelchair ramp. Harry waits until they're out of the hospital and away from everybody else to speak.

"We're leaving Europe. I've got a safe house in America that we're going to stay in for a while," Harry says and Louis' heart drops a little. They never even got to spend a single night in their declared home. "I'm going to meet with the leader of one of the calmer gangs, we're going to talk about merging and compensating our lands," he says, pushing Louis onto the gravel. He scowls one of his underlings off as they try to take Louis from him to push him. The man slinks back and opens the door instead, keeping his head hung. "Let me help you," Harry insists as Louis tries to left himself up with one good arm and one good leg. He yelps in surprise when he's completely picked up and his mouth clamps shut when he is put in his seat. "Buckle up, we'll be at the airport in just a few hours," Harry says, climbing over him and slumping in his own seat as the man climbs in. They wait for Michael to come with the medice and that only takes about five minutes-even though Harry was twitching the whole time.

"I've got a whole bunch of stuff that I can't pronounce," he says, climbing into the shotgun seat, shutting his door behind him and buckling his seat belt as the man starts to back up. "Here," he says, handing the bags to Harry, who puts them in the floor. They drive in silence other than that. Not even the radio is humming, the only sound is the wheels going over the pavement and the occasional rock flying up. Louis catches misty eyes as they drive off, he didn't even get to say 'bye' to Jesy before they left. Nobody would tell him about her condition and he's still really tired. It's only about 7: 30 in the morning. Louis' eyes droop and open when Harry's arms are suddenly around his shoulders. He lets his head be pulled down and he closes his eyes automatically. Harry strokes his hair until he's lulled to sleep. "He's so tiny," Michael says after another 20 minutes of driving. Harry looks up at him and nods.

"But he's strong, unbelievably strong. I think he'll be okay," Harry says, yawning subtly.

"Do you think you'll love him?," Michael asks bluntly and Harry's yawn freezes in his mouth. His mouth clamps shut and Michael pales, figuring he's crossed a line, "Sir-"

"Yeah," Harry says, interrupting the flustered boy, "I think that'll be the easiest thing for me for a while"

The driving man doesn't say anything, he just keeps his eyes on the road with a small, crooked grin at that.

+

Louis smacks his lips when Harry picks him up, but he doesn't wake up. Harry sighs in relief and lets the driver lead them, Michael holding up the rear, not far behind. "We'll have to show them our passports," Harry whispers, looking over at Michael as he digs through his satchel, "You have them, right?" The blue haired boy nods and finally fins them in the large bag, holding them up for Harry to see. "Okay, I want him to wake up on his own, so let's keep this simple," Harry says, referring to the sleeping boy in his arms, holding him bridal style to his chest. He's very glad he is naturally bulky.

Both men nod and they start walking again. Harry has to watch his feet to keep from tripping over. "It's a good job we don't have any baggage-hey what are you doing?," Michael yelps and Louis' head bobs up in surprise. Harry spins them around and growls in anger seeing Michael on the ground, hiss nose bleeding. "What are you-," he starts, but he cuts himself off to lunge to the side as the man who drove them here suddenly sinks the ground in. The spot where they stood is so sunk in that he can't even see the bottom, only darkness. His eyes widen and he's so contorted with emotions and questions, mainly: what do I do with Louis. He does the only thing he can think of, he sets a groggy and confused Louis on his feet and does what he considers overwhelmingly dishonorable. He licks his lip and defies fire at him with a stone hard expression.

The man quickly makes a shield out of the ground, shoving it with the palms of his hands at the three of them. Harry bends his fingers and it explodes do much it rains down as dirt. The man snorts in surprise, he didn't know Harry Styles was a double bender. He backs up a bit as he takes a step in front of his soulie and friend. Blue electricity tickling up his fingers. They keep backing up and backing up until the man hit's a wall, his brown eyes blown in fear as Harry advances on him. He defies earth in earnest, encasing Harry's feet in it, but the man simply twitches his pinky and it falls back down. "Please-," he squeaks as Harry is right up on him, he can practically see the fire in his angry green eyes.

"Who are you working for?," Harry says with a clipped tone, the venom dripping off his word onto their shoes. He rises his hand threateningly and the man's eyes widen even more, his mouth pops opened.

"P-Poe," he says, and Louis flinches as Harry's hand clamps down on his forehead. The man's mouth opens in a silent scream as the electric currents explode over his face. His eyes start pouring blood, and the blue currents explode through his mouth. That only lasts for about fifteen seconds before he crumples to the ground. 

"W-Why'd you kill him? He answered your question?," Louis hiccups, his whole body tense and on edge even though he was asleep no more than three minutes ago. "Harry-"

Harry quickly spins around and jogs over to his soulie, scooping him up again. Louis doesn't protest, he just wraps his legs around Harry's waist and arms around his neck to hold on as he grabs Michael by the hand, pulling him up effortlessly. "He'd have gone back and squealed on us, Lou.", he says, taking off at a run, "Okay, Mike, have the passports ready, we're going to load up as soon as we get here" Michael nods, trying to stop his massive nose bleed. It's probably broken. The get to security and all Harry says is his name and the attendants nod. Michael shows them the passports and the motion for them to follow with their hands.

"How can we trust them?," Louis whispers in Harry's ear, swaying from time to time. Harry chuckles at him and kisses his ear. 

"Those are the people who worked with my dad, I think if anybody is loyal, it's them. We're okay now," Harry says, stepping through the door to the air lift off as the male attendant opens it for him.

"What if there's people waiting for us in America, Harry? They caught you at the airport the day I met you...," Louis points out, fear creeping up his spine at the foreshadowing thought.

Harry swallows and holds him tighter to his chest as they approach the helicopter they're going to use. It's choppers are already spinning, and Louis looks up to see what's causing the high speed wind. His mouth pops open in surprise. "That's a bridge we'll have to cross at the time," Harry whispers, setting Louis on the ground, keeping him close as the pilot waves them in quickly, aware of the urgency.


	12. languid

story: seven minutes

part: twelve // languid

___

Louis sits as close to Harry as humanly possible, clutching his arm tightly between his hands as the continue over the forest the seems never ending. He has a fear in he back of his-newly-paranoid brain that they're going to get shot out of the sky and his mangled, burnt body will be returned to his mum. Harry doesn't seem to be minding the close proximity, though. He has a protective arm thrown over Louis' shoulders and he's keeping an eye on the whereabouts of the outside of the helicopter. Harry doesn't vocalize it, but Louis knows that he feel betrayed by what happened not twenty minutes ago. Louis knows he won't trust many people now, he wouldn't-doesn't. He wouldn't trust even Harry under different circumstances. 

"We'll be touching down in about two more hours," says the pilot, a middle aged man with salt-and-pepper hair. He's been giving them updates since they lifted off not too long ago. It's safe to say that this is the fastest that Louis has ever gone. He's barely been out of Doncaster, and now he's leaving Ireland for America. And he's basically on the run.

Harry's shoulders tense as he tries to stretch his body in the tight space their confided in. "Thanks, Gabriel," Harry says quietly, Michael has passed out on his chair, his hair matting to his face. "Say, do you have any blankets packed up in here? We didn't really bring any... thing at all, wasn't expecting to have to leave for quite a while... we didn't even get settled. I'm sorry about that," Harry whispers the last part to Louis who just yawn and curls more into the warmth Harry is emitting. This is easily the calmest it's been for a little while. Just the slightest quiet and peacefulness his heaven to Louis' aching mind.

"Yeah, sir, they're in the red emergency pouches. There should be three or four bag back there, I'll pack them back up after you lot get where you're going," says Gabriel, smiling a smile to them that seems nothing short of friendly. But Louis knows better than to buy the 'friendly' act without getting to know the person first. It's probably for the best that the incident happened, because Louis now considers himself wiser in the field of hostages. Take none, and terminate.

He looks up at his soulie with heavy eyelids as he grabs the said emergency bags from off the wall, very convenient. He takes the first one out of his bag and unfolds it, throwing it unceremoniously onto Michael, who doesn't even flinch. The taller man then turns to Louis, grabbing another bag. He takes the blanket out of that one too and gently drapes it over both of them, allowing Louis access to his side, holding his arm up to scoot under it. He does so slowly, leaning his head on Harry's shoulder. He closes his eyes and all he sees is the darkness of his eyelids.

Hw wonders it it's the air giving his this serene feeling. His windier elements feel very strong up here, he feels good despite how crap his life has literally turned. "'M, thanks," he hums, burying his face up to his nose with the warmth constricting blanket. Harry chuckles down at him and lies his head back, curls splaying over the back of the headrest. Louis closes his eyes with a content, serene feeling and opens his eyes nearly two hours later.

"My nose hurts...," Michael is saying as Louis focuses in on what's going on around him. He looks over at the blue haired boy, who is clutching his nose with a wince. He's still kind of bloody, the only rag he's had is the sleeve to his shirt. "How much longer 'til we land?," he asks, looking around like he's just woken up as well. Louis looks up to see Harry's sleeping face, and he feels a pang of sadness seeing the little cuts littering his face.

"About ten more minutes," says Gabriel, over his shoulder. Michael nods his head and looks over at Harry and Louis, surprised to see Louis awake and looking at him. He smiles at him with a soft look. Louis looks at him in question and he looks to make sure Harry is asleep before talking.

"He doesn't let people touch him," he whispers and Louis automatically looks at the arm that is thrown around his waist, the grip still tight even in his sleeping time. He looks back up at Michael with his eyebrows furrowed. 'Why?,' he mouths and Michael scoots closer, as to not wake Harry with his loud speaking. "If he hasn't told you, I imagine that he will. It's not my place to share... but it'll happen eventually, just be patient with him," he says, patting Louis' knee after a few moments of silence.

They both ump when Harry suddenly stirs, his eyes barely opened. "Don't touch him...," he mutters and Michael retracts his hand with blushed cheeks. Harry stretches like a cat, pulling Louis closer against him once all his desired bones are popped. "How much longer until we're there?," he asks, resting his cheek on the back of Louis' head. 

"Gabriel said ten minutes about two ago, so not long at all," Michael says, very fidgety from embarrassment. Harry nods and Louis' head moves with his. "Do we need to have a strategy if...," Michael pitters off and Louis stiffens beneath the weight of his words. Harry - of course - feels his tenseness pressed right up against him and he scowls at Michael, who shrivels up a little in his seat. "Sorry," he squeaks as Louis looks up at Harry with real fear in his eyes. There's only so many times he can live through this!

"We'll just do what we do. I don't know how we could make a plan of attack without knowing the circumstances. No use in losing hair over it," Harry snaps and Michael flinches, nodding his head quickly. Louis wets his lips with his tongue and sighs. His eyes feel very heavy, and he doesn't know from what, exactly. The doctor said that he had been unconscious for over a day, and he just took a 2 hour long nap. "Are we landing, Gabriel?," Harry yawns, and his dimples deepen as his cheeks expand. Louis looks out the window and his eyes widen in surprise. He didn't even notice the fact that they got away from the forest and are now lowering down over some civilization.

"Yes, sir," he says, very chipper for how long he has been sat in concentration, flipping dials and knobs at set times seamlessly. "The landing pad is on top of this building right here," he says, using his left hand to point at the tallest building in the area. He stops to say some type of code-words into his headset and descends the last few yards, expertly landing on the roof. "I hear you talking about being trepidations about landing in an airport, and I remembered that your father used to land here, figured you were too young to remember," he adds, taking his ear piece out.

Harry smiles widely at him, that weight lifted off of his shoulders. "Thank-you, Gabriel. My father hardly had me airborne, he never brought me here, I never would have thought about it. You're a genius," he compliments and Gabriel shakes a hand modestly, like it's no big deal. "No, really," Harry insists as he opens the door, "Thank you" He take's Louis hand in his and he's actually quite surprised, but very pleased, that his soulie is being so compliant.

"No problem, son. Just take care of yourselves," he smiles at them as Harry waves at him, hopping out and holding Louis by his waist, the jump too much for his short body and injured ankle. Michael grabs their medicine bags and follows after them, shutting the door with one final farewell.

Gabriel doesn't take off again until they're safely inside of the building, the air force would knock them off, and Louis watches through the clean, clear window as the aircraft soars away, very loud in his ears now that he's not tucked away inside of it.

"Where are we going?," Louis asks, his hand pliant in Harry's letting it be held, "To see your mum?" Harry shakes his head at them, pulling them towards the elevator, pressing the down button.

"No," He says, "I promised her that I wouldn't bring her back into this life. We're going to a friend of mine's" Louis looks at him in confusion, but Harry doesn't say anything else, he just gently tugs him into the delivered elevator, Michael right behind them.

+

"Calum!," Michael cheers, and Louis yelps in surprise, embarrassingly hiding behind Harry, who looks at him in surprise. He sooths his hands through his hair and he takes a step forward, his cheeks red from the mortification of his skittishness. He looks up at Harry, who mouths 'you're okay,' with an encouraging smile and Louis nods, looking back at Michael, who has a very tan, tall bloke wrapped in his arms.

"Ey, mate! What happened to your face?," the lad, Calum, asks, pulling away from Michael's tight huge. He looks over at Harry and Louis, surprised that they look in worse condition. "What happened to you lot?," he asks, adjusting his beanie from where Michael screwed it up over his hair.

"Let's get inside...," Harry mutters, tugging Louis along by his waist. "I feel like we have a lot of catching up to do," he adds as Calum quickly leads them from the driveway, Michael turning around to pay the taxi driver, who is looking at them curiously. He jogs to catch up with them and smiles as Calum holds the door opened for him.

"Would you like some tea?," he asks, clasping his hands together. He's fighting to surprise his surprise. When Harry told him over the phone that him, Michael, and his soulie were coming over, he did not expect them to be in this shape. "We can talk over some tea," he adds and Harry nods, he thinks he can remember how good Calum always made tea. "Do you like tea...," he drags on, requesting Louis' name.

"Uh, Louis, my name's Louis. And, yeah, I like tea," Louis says, and he tries to act subtle, but his skin has honestly been crawling for a good brew since he woke up. So Calum leads them into his kitchen, which is just in the other room from the living room they entered. Louis looks around, and he notices that Calum's house is much more humble than the one Harry had prepared for them. Instead of a sterile white, his house looks more like a very large cottage. It has chandeliers, too, and fancy paintings, but it just looks much more urban. 

"So, what happened?," Calum asks, grabbing a silver kettle from under the sink, automatically filling it with water, turning on the eye while it fills. He turns his attention to the three of them once that's taken care of, and nobody makes a say for a few moments. Michael and Louis both look up at Harry, who sighs deep in his throat, pulling two seats out for himself and Louis. He sits down and Michael leans against the bar, thanking Calum as he suddenly gets him a wet rag, handing it to him to clean up a little. "I'll get you a new shirt in a minute," he tells him, turning to Harry as he opens his mouth to speak.

"Somebody, we're not sure who yet, planted a bomb in the Bunker. Underground. I thought that that was impossible, but they found the explosion point. They suspect that it was remote controlled and they weren't just trying to ruin one of our strong holds, they were trying to weaken our defenses. They blew it up with four hundred of our injured inside. We were kinda close to the impact. As was one of Louis' friends...," Harry says, and Calum must know not to press the subject of the 'friend', because he just nods and turns off the water, placing the kettle on the eye and grabbing the tea bag from out of the cabinet above the oven.

"Who do they suspect is behind it?," he asks, returning his gaze to the roughed up trio. Harry laughs humorlessly.

"One of Poe's guys paid us a visit at the airport. He must have killed our original driver, because he was the one who drove us. He's kinda stupid if you ask me. He had me, and these two in a car. He could've drove us to their headquarters or something. But, nope, he was - luckily - a dimwit, and tried to jump all three of us once he had already dropped us off at the airport. He didn't know what he was matched against, though. He didn't know that I can defy electricity, and he doesn't know how powerful Lou is. I think Michael could have taken him on his own if he hadn't have been attacked out of no where," Michael jolts at the sudden compliment, well that's about as close to a compliment as he's ever gotten out of Harry.

"'M just glad we made it out of there," Michael says humbly, and he and Louis both jump in surprise when the kettle starts shrieking out of no where. 

Harry looks at his soulie in concern. He'd probably laugh at his sudden terror, but he knows that his fright is nothing humorous, he aches over the fact that the slightest noise can now startle him into hiding. He lets him tuck himself into his shoulder, hiding his face away from Michael and Calum, even though neither of them are laughing, especially not directly at him. "Me, too," Harry says as Calum starts filling up mugs with boiling water, putting the little tea bag in them and passing them out. Louis reaches for it, but Harry grabs his for him, putting it at a safe distance for him to grab without it falling on his lap. He's been burnt quite enough recently. "Thanks, Cal," Harry smiles tightly, "Do you have a spare room? I want to... talk with Louis..." The tan boy nods, sipping out of his steaming mug.

"Up the stairs, fourth door to your right," he says and Harry automatically helps Louis out of his seat, making sure that he doesn't put too much pressure on his ankle. He thanks him and grabs their two mugs, leading Louis - who looks mildly alarmed - through the house.

They immediately see the staircase, and Harry lends Louis an arm to use as a crutch, his hands are filled with the warm cups. They make snails pace, but that's okay, because they don't have to be in any rush. Harry turns them to the right once they've finally taken them all and he opens the door with his hip, luckily the door was already cracked. "Sit," he says, it's not harsh like an order, it's soft and careful, like a request. He's keeping his promise from the beginning - the one about Louis always having a choice in what he does. So he sits, and Harry hands him his cup. His hands are shaky, he notices as he brings the porcelain up to his lips. He makes a surprised sound of approval as the liquid hits his tongue. It's still hot, but he's had hotter. "Talk," Harry says, sitting down in front of him, on the bed, crossing his legs while Louis' continue to dangle off the side. 

Louis blinks at him in surprise and lowers his cup. "A-About what?," he stutters and Harry sighs.

"About anything. I don't want you to get yourself all coiled up, to put yourself in a bottle. Because after a while, under the pressure, bottles over fill. Or they explode. And I don't want either of those things to happen to you, so talk. Tell me what ever you want. What's your favorite animal? What UNI did you want to go to? What's your favorite book? How are you feeling?," Harry rambles and Louis ducks his head, swallows thickly. He nods after a few moments and Harry watches him carefully.

"I'm okay - "

"Louis! Stop! Do you think that it's going to get better if you lie to me?," he snaps and all of Louis' coils snap, his bottle explodes.

"You want to know how I'm feeling? You want to know? Honestly? I'm doing just peachy! No, really! I'm doing just fine! Because it's such a nice experience leaving your whole family behind without so much as a face-to-face goodbye! The last physical experience you had with one of your best friends was when they were drunk and they ruined a part of your leg! I'm fine with having to be on the run to keep myself alive from my soulie's rival gang! No, that's wonderful! I'm perfectly okay!," Louis screams, his full cup of tea rattling off the bed, hitting the - luckily - tile floor, no mess that can't be cleaned up.

Harry sets his tea down on the table and extends his arms widely, offering his comfort to his poor boy.

He automatically curls into him, and Harry winces as the sobs slice through his battered body. He strokes his back and closes his eyes tightly, wishing so bad that it could be different.


	13. magnitude

story: seven minutes

part: thirteen // magnitude

____

"Is your mate going to be alright?," Calum whispers as Harry walks into the kitchen, his face ashen. He and Michael had both heard the cup fall from downstairs, and they could hear Louis' sobs until, they assume, he fell asleep. 

Harry nods and plops down in the chair he had previously sat in. The table seems much smaller without Louis' quiet, but vibrant presence. "Yeah, I think he will be. He's just been bottling it up. I should've... I don't know. I should've done something more to help him. I've been practically hurtling him into danger, it doesn't surprise me that he feels this way," he mutters, dragging his hands through his hair, "He cried himself to sleep, murmuring about wanting to go home, missing his mum and siblings" If Harry didn't mind being touched, he would be engulfed in a three person hug. But he doesn't. So they just look at him in sympathy.

Michael takes a sip out of his cup, wincing as it nudges his nose. "What are you going to do now that Sims is ganked? He was the second in command, so does that make Louis -" 

"No," Harry interrupts immediately, shutting his eyes tightly. Michael and Calum look at each other, their eyebrows furrowed. "Louis will never be the leader of the gang. Or any of our children. I'll figure something out, but I don't plan on needing a replacement any time soon," he mutters. 

"What is his fertility number?," Calum asks, changing the subject. Harry actually cracks a smirk at that, chuckling a little. 

"Eight," he says, and both of the other gang members gasp. 

Neither say anything for a moment. 8 is such a large number in terms for fertility. That's like... 5 babies at one time, no problem. "Whoa, mate," Calum says, his eyes wide as Michael nods beside him. Harry nods his head in agreement. "I think he's gonna be a great dad. It just kind of fits, don't it? He looks like he's made to have children," he adds and Harry laughs out loud. 

"Well I wouldn't be putting any gender bets quite yet, he won't even sleep in the same bed with me unless he's hurt or there's a thunderstorm," Harry says, his smile still palpable. Calum whoops at that, and Harry lightheartedly scowls at his long-time mate. "Speaking of the devil, I want to give him some Advil's when he's up, he'll probably ache from all of the crying and his ankle medicine doesn't really help with headaches," Harry says and Calum points him to the cabinet that has all of the medicines. 

"Did he break his ankle during the explosion? His arm, too? I noticed his arm was bandaged up," Calum asks and Harry tenses. 

He can not comprehend just how terrible he feels for hurting Louis. 

The doctor said the tissue should be repairing, but it'll scar in the shape of an expanse of lightning. "Um... well his ankle was hurt before we met. Like, three minutes before we met. I had gotten off the plane from America and Poe had sent some guys to get rid of me. I got away from them and we literally ran into each other. I had around seven minutes left. That's what his watcher said, anyways. And that whole myth about your stomach dropping when you meet your soulie is a huge understatement. It felt more strong than getting shot. And Louis didn't faint. Like I said, he's strong," Harry explains, and that's probably the most he's said at one time. 

"That didn't really answer my question, mate," Calum chuckles and Michael tenses. People don't talk to Harry like that. He's genuinely surprised as Harry's face remains neutral. He sighs, though, and Calum looks at him in concern. "What happened to him?"

"I...," Harry weakly starts, closing his eyes again, then opening them and focusing on his hands. "He was at some bar with his mate. He told me that he was drunk and got violent. He used his windier abilities to slam a door on him, it caught his ankle. It was just kinda sprained. And he still ran on it. He bumped into me in one of the alleys near the pub. The guys that were following me caught up, and I couldn't help him, I couldn't help either of us. Both he held his own, he got burned, but he literally disarmed both guys. Full body ice, up to their necks. The force of the explosion just kinda killed his ankle," he drawls, looking up to dare Michael to add the part where he accidentally electrocuted him. "He was so strong that night, I don't know what's happened," he whispers, saddened that his poor soulie is scared constantly. 

"Maybe you should go and get him to practice a little bit? Maybe he'll feel more secure after getting his grip back?," Calum suggests, putting his empty teacup into the sink. Michael looks at him curiously. That's not such a bad idea. "I have a course for the newbies out back," he continues and Harry nods, chewing on the corner of of his bottom lip.

"That sounds like a good idea, yeah. I'll ask him if he wants to do it after he wakes up. I should probably be there when that happens... and a nap doesn't sound too bad. I'm so sore," Harry says, wincing as his back muscles pull. Since he's given himself an inch of comfort, it's registering how bad his body feels. Calum nods with a calm smile that hasn't changed since they were kids. 

"That's fine. If Mike isn't too tired, I was thinking about showing him the new course. It's a lot different than when we were cadets," Calum says and Michael's eyes light up, he nods quickly. He loved training. Harry chuckles at them and nods. "You said he doesn't like sharing a bed with you?," Calum asks as Harry stands up. 

He scratches the nap of his neck where the small curls bloom. "He's... hesitant. He wants to take us slow. He's one of a kind, I think. But, I don't think he would want to wake up in a random house, alone, after all of these things have happened," Harry says, his spinal-cord popping as he stretches. 

Michael nods, he's experienced Louis first hand. He's seen him freeze over an entire yard in three seconds. He's also seen Louis' reactions to frightening things. "We'll catch up with you when you both wake up," Michael smiles trepidatiously and Harry nods at him, turning to leave the kitchen. 

He can hear the door shut as he gets through the living-room. He inwardly huffs at how stiff his muscles feel now. He looks up at the intimidating stairs and takes them at a slower pace than he would ever uphold in the company of another person. After a couple of moments, of clutching the rail, he finally gets up the final one, setting his direction for the right, three doors down. 

He blinks the soreness out of his eyes as he pushes the door. He walks towards the bed and he nearly flinches when Louis suddenly moves his face to look at him with dreary eyes. "You're awake," Harry asks, taking another step towards his soulie. 

"I woke up alone," he says, his voice rough. 

Harry chuckles and runs his fingers through his sweaty fringe. "How about we get you a bath drawn later, hm? And that's why I came in here, I didn't want you to wake up alone," Harry whispers and Louis groans sleepily. 

Harry nearly recoils in utter surprise as Louis grabs him by the arm and tugs him a little, not try to move him, just nudge him. "Then don't make me do it again," he mutters as his eyes closes. Harry blinks at him, as if he's expecting this to be some sort of test from Louis' part. 

"You want to sleep in the same bed?," Harry asks skeptically and Louis groans at his trepidation. He gives another tug to his arm and Harry crawls on the, bed beside him. "Are you uncomfortable?," he whispers, setting his head on the soft pillow as Louis turns a 180° to face him. 

"I'm okay," he smiles sleepily. He's not lying, he doesn't feel threatened by Harry, he knows he won't hurt him on purpose, and he knows he's going to get hurt again. So he has two options. To not let anybody touch him, and still get hurt. Or to accept physical comfort with the gamble of getting hurt. "You can touch me...," he mutters, blindly grabbing Harry's hand, putting it on his shoulder, where Harry doesn't move it an inch. "Okay?," Louis whispers and Harry's eyes close. 

"Okay?"

"Okay"

"Okay," Harry says with a light hearted chuckle. Louis smiles at him lazily. "This has to stop somewhere," he whispers with a quiet laugh, moving his thumb to kneed at the skin of Louis' arm. Louis laughs quietly and he's asleep without another word. "Okay," Harry whispers, scooting a fraction of an inch closer. Maybe more.

+

"This is amazing," Louis comments, taking a sip out of his cup, sated and languid. He feels much better rested now, his bones and eyelids don't feel as heavy. He's staring at the most intense course he has ever seen. Calum chuckles behind him and Harry smiles beside him. 

Since they woke up, Louis has noticed, Harry has become very... clingy. Like he's gotten Louis' signature, his permission to show affection. He doesn't really mind, as long as Harry keeps himself in check. 

"It's state-of-the-art," Calum says proudly. "This is where new members come to train. Every member has trained here, all of them, this is the only training facility," he adds and Louis nods, impressed. And almost honored by the thought of how many people have walked these grounds. 

"Feels like only yesterday," Harry mutters and Calum nods. Harry graduated the course at ten years old, his powers almost unheard of. His father before him was definitely as powerful. "Would you like to go?," he whispers to Louis, gently nudging the back of his head with his nose. The shorter boy looks at him nervously. "Do you want me to go first?,"he asks and Louis nods quickly, he wants to see how this works before he makes an idiot out of himself. "Okay," he says, nodding at Calum. 

The other three watch as Harry steps into the course, the blue electricity already crawling around his fingers. "I'm starting it," Calum shouts and Harry gives an acute nod. Louis watches Calum press some button on the wall beside them and he looks back at Harry as the room starts to groan. 

Michael nudges him and he looks over. "Harry is the best we've ever had, he basically redesigned this whole place when he took over," Michael informs him, and Louis' eyes widen when something suddenly flies at Harry; an orange, plastic frisbee. He acts quickly, lifting his arms so the ground forms a shield in front of him. Another frisbee is shot from behind him and he raises his free hand, a ball of orange fire hits the target perfectly. It falls to the ground, a melting and molten puddle. "See?," Michael says as Louis continues to look on in awe. 

Louis is impressed, because Harry had trouble getting out of the bed after their nap, his body hurt so bad. He refuses to show weakness. Louis licks his bottom lip and sighs, burying his hands in the jumper Calum let him borrow after he commented about being cold. Needless to say, Harry still doesn't like the idea of him wearing other people's clothes, but it's Calum, and he's known Calum since nappie days. "What is your element?," Louis asks Calum as Harry continues through the course. 

The tan boy jumps at being talked to, he was kinda spaced out watch Harry, he's missed old times. "Oh, um, I don't have an element," he says and Louis' eyes widen. "Don't apologize, it's okay, I've grown up like this," he says quickly, as Louis opens his mouth. "I have to say," he says, changing the subject. "You're pretty lucky to have Harry as your soulie. He's a great bloke," Louis nods in agreement, his cheeks a little blushed, "But I'd have to say he's pretty lucky, too. You're just about all he talks about, and he's only known you, what, two weeks?" He's really blushing now. 

"One week two days," Michael puts in and Louis looks inquisitive. It seems like it's been longer than that. "Imagine the shock we got when he and Harry arrived at our door. Hadn't seen Harry since he left Ireland, then he's suddenly bloody and battered, being basically carried by his soulie," he continues as they all look at Harry as a loud beep goes through the room. 

Louis raises his eyebrows as he looks around. Harry has demolished anything that came close to him. He's covered in dirt and a shiny sheen of sweat and he's breathing heavily, but he's smiling widely. He basically limps out of the room from the tenderness of his legs, but he makes it back to them and kisses the side of Louis head. "Do you want to do that? Get a little practice?," he asks and Louis thinks it over and nods. A little practice couldn't hurt. 

Even though he feels ten-fold worse in the soreness department that Harry does, with his rippling back muscles and hard-as-rock biceps and torso. 

Calum pats his back and he looks at him. "It'll only last six minutes. You can do it. Walk right there to the X, and keep your eyes open, you'll be fine," he smiles and Louis nods slowly. Harry runs his fingers through his hair one more time before he feels his legs going forward. He nervously walks through the door to the glass room and bites his lip. "Ready?," Calum shouts, and Louis turns to look at them. Harry and Michael are standing off to the side, Harry closer to the door in case he needs to get to him quickly. How comforting. He nods after a moment and Calum nods with a thumb up, and he presses the button, causing the room to groan again. 

Louis narrows his eyes and spots the water that is in the troughs around the room. As he hears the frisbee coming, he does some sort of nameless move that he taught himself, he moves his legs quickly, his arms in slow, fluid movement. The water comes to him quickly and it attaches to him like tentacles. He jerks his shoulder forward and clenches his hand inside of it's water incasing and he catches the threatening object, freezing the water where the orange object lodged. 

He in clenches his fist and the frisbee drops to the floor. 

He can see the second frisbee coming at him from the side and he uses one of the water tentacles to catch the frisbee in the air, it hits the wall on the other side of the glass room and he clinches his fist, freezing it to the glass. 

He takes a left step and artfully avoids the third frisbee, using his left water tentacle, grabbing it mid air and flinging it through the air until it splinters across the thick glass. He breathes heavily as he waits for the next threat to come.

He remains on the X like instructed, and his eyes widen as the ground starts to crumble. He looks around in terror and quickly sucks all of the water out of the surrounding grass. He takes a leap as high as he can with his ankle and extends his arms to make a plank out of the water. He freezes it before he can fall and he narrowly gets it in time before the ground has completely caved in on the X spot. 

He looks up at the three men who are looking at him with wide, surprised eyes. Louis hears the beep that signifies that the course is over and the ground molds itself back together again. He takes that as his cue to go back outside and nobody says anything for a few moments. 

"Whoa," Michael breathes, looking thoroughly impressed, Calum nodding in agreement and Harry smirking with a proud, fond look in his eyes. Louis blushes and bites the inside of his cheeks as Harry wraps him in a dirty, sweaty, lovely embrace.


	14. mislead

story: seven minutes

part: fourteen // mislead

____

"Have you seen my glasses?," Louis asks, stepping into the living room. He takes a step back when he gets in there, though. He only went up stairs to take the bath that Harry ran for him, and that only took ten minutes, tops. And now the living room is full of large, buff men, respectively 6'5" each. And he's in nothing but a pair of black boxers and one of Calum's long t-shirts. 

All of their eyes go to him and he curls into himself a little bit, Harry stands up from the couch and walks over to him. "Hey," he whispers gently, putting his hands on his shoulders and standing in front of him to shield him from the perverted looks the visitors are giving to his legs and exposed neck. "Hey, yeah, you're glasses are in the bedside table," he tells him and he nods, looking around Harry in curiosity. 

"Who are those people?," he asks quietly, blushing and looking away as he catches eye contact with one of the guys, who grins widely and waves at him. "And why are they all looking at me like that?," he adds, hiding in front of Harry a little bit more. Harry pulls him to his chest and turns to the men and holds up one finger to indicate that he'll only be one moment. He pulls Louis up the stairs slowly, he knows Louis' still sore, he is too.

"Let's get you upstairs. I've got Clifford out, he's getting us some new clothes, enough to travel with. And those guys are some of the members from the gang I'm trying to merge with for a little while. We're discussing a few things, I'm sure you don't want to hear about it," Harry says, keeping his fingertips between Louis' shoulder-blades. 

Louis looks up at him as they walk. He likes the comfort of having Harry's hand on his shoulder, but he doesn't say anything. He may lean into it a bit. He licks his lips and looks down, twiddling his thumbs together. "I want to know what's going on. I know I haven't handled things... good... but I I'm not good with being in the dark. I never have been. So, please tell me, or it'll itch at my skin," he pleads and Harry bites at the corner of his lower lip. He turns them towards the room and opens the door for him, their feet moving in synch. 

He shakes his head and Louis groans, pouting his lower lip. The look almost physically hurts Harry. "I don't want you to have to deal with it, lovely," he says as they reach the room they silently declared their own. "Now, stay in here. And lock the door, don't let anybody in except me, Michael, or Calum, okay?," he says, walking Louis to the bed. Louis crosses his arms in discontent, but sighs as Harry runs a hand over his cheeks, which are still littered with tiny scratches and cuts, a few bruises have started to appear, but they're not very dark, just sensitive.

"Okay," he whispers and Harry gives a gentle smile, and he leans down, Louis lets him kiss his ear. "How long do I need to stay up here?," he asks and Harry straightens up. 

"Until any of the three of us come to retrieve you. I doubt I'll have anybody else do it," he says, standing up. "I have to go back down, love. They aren't people who like to be kept waiting. You're okay up here?," he asks and Louis nods, picking at the scabs on his arm. "Your medicine is in the dresser beside you. You might want to put a new layer on, it's almost better. I'm... sorry I hurt you," he adds and Louis looks up at him and nods. 

"It's okay, I promise. It's okay, I trust you won't do it again," he says lightly and Harry sighs in relief, leaving the room with a smile on his face. 

He trots down the stairs, wincing at the sensitivity, his legs nearly feel like Jell-O. He walks into the room, where everyone seems to be arguing rather loudly, and everybody looks at him. He raises an eyebrow as everybody silences. He looks around and notices Calum avoiding his gaze. "Somebody gotta tell 'em," says Gale, a dark skinned man with broad shoulders and yellow teeth. 

"Tell me what?," he asks, taking up a brooding stance, crossing his arms over his chest. Everyone looks around and Harry raises both eyebrows. "Tell me what?," he repeats, sterner this time. 

"We think you're soulie should be the one to go to the Den," says a burly woman who Harry thinks was introduced as Violeta. His eyebrows dig into a furrow and everyone shrivels backwards a little. 

He looks around and nearly growls. "Who's idea was that? No. It's not happening," he says sternly, scowling at anyone who looks him in the eye. He starts walking around the room and everyone avoids his gaze, looking at the wall or at each other, nearly everyone is terrified of Harry Styles. 

Harry looks as one of the other gang members coughs and raises up, licking his lips. "It was my idea, Styles. And as the leader of your gang, as a person, don't you think it's about right for you to sacrifice somethin' to save everyone?," says Gale, looking at Harry like he's offended. "And it's not like anything's gonna happen to the little squirt. We'll have 'im backed up, plenty. He's the only one small enough t' fit into the ducts, the only way in before it's too late," he continues, standing up from the chair he's sitting in, as if daring Harry to say 'no' now. 

Anger flairs inside of Harry at the mental image of little, innocent Louis crawling around the rat, spider infested ducts of the Den, which is currently under hold of their rival gangs. "Absolutely not," Harry says, clipped. If they found him in the ducts, they could put poison gasses through them, they could kill him that easily. Gale squints his dull eyes and Harry clenches his jaw. 

The other man furrows his eyebrows in anger, his entire face contorting. "I'm talkin' for ev'ryone in our gang. If you don't do this one thing, you can kiss any alliance you could attain from us goodbye, Styles," he says and Harry's eyes narrow at the given ultimatum.

"I'm going to drive around the block three times. If everyone that does not live here isn't gone by then I'm shooting them. No questions asked," Harry grits through his teeth, grabbing the keys to Calum's car from the key ring holder. He walks out the door without looking back, he lets it slam behind him. 

While Harry drives away, Louis sits upstairs, defying a bit of water into the air. The water that was in his hair from his bath. 

He hums in boredom, flexing his hand to freeze and unfreeze the water, letting it fall to the floor before he stops it right in time, making it fly up to the roof, stopping it right in time. He flinches as a knock as the door surprises him. The water freezes and rolls around on the tile. He stands up and walks over to the door. "Harry?," he asks quietly, tucking his fringe backwards as it falls into his face. 

"Um, no, this is - my name's Gale," says the voice on the other side of the door and Louis' eyes open in surprise. "Can you open the door? We kinda need your help," he says and Louis' eyebrows shoot up. 

He puts a tentative hand to the door. "Harry told me not to open for anybody but him, Calum, or Michael," he says, though he does remember Harry saying that he doubted he'd have anybody come up here, so that means he might. And something might've happened. "Is Harry okay? Is that why he had you come up here?," Louis whimpers, oblivious to Gale's face contorting as a devious idea goes through his mind. 

"No... I'm so sorry to havta be the one t' tell you...," he whispers and he can hear Louis' breath hitch through the door. 

"What happened? I heard the door slam... what happened?," Louis rambles, pulling at his hair lightly. Gale knocks on the door and Louis flinches, almost in his own world. 

"We were infiltrated. I think it was Poe's guys. They... oh, God, they... they took Harry. And they took some of our guys, too. They takin' them to the Den, we're sure of it. And we need your help to... I would say spy on them. We'll back you up, but you're the only person we have handy that is teeny enough to fit into the the ventilation system. We gotta hurry if you're up to it, they're gonna torture them, and I can't let that happen, they got my brother," Gale lies, hoping the extra guilt will speed this up, Harry will be back any minute. 

Louis unlocks the door with shaking fingers and his bottom lip wobbles as he steps into the hallway, greeted by the very tall man from the other side of the door, his grey eyes look sad. "What do I do? The Den is in the United Kingdom?," he says, scared for his soulie. Gale nods and nudges his head to the side, indicating that they should hurry. 

"I know! We've got to hurry! They are probably already on a plane... oh, my God, what if they have them tied up? Or - Or in a small space? Anthony is claustrophobic, he'll have a panic attack!," Gale says. Anthony is the name of his cat. 

Louis nods, he can't imagine Harry tied up, he'd never show fear, but he'd be so scared. What if they tortured him? He wrings his sweating hands together and nods. Gale smiles at him. "Okay, let's go! I have to get to Harry before they hurt him. And your brother, too, of course. How do we get to them?," he asks, licking his lips as they start to walk down the hallway, Gale moving so fast that he has to jog, wincing at the soreness in his whole body as he moves, but he has to protect Harry, that's his job as his soulie. 

"My leader, she has a private plane at the airport," Gale tells him as they tumble down the stairs. The remaining three of Gale's jockeys meet them at the door and Calum looks at him in confusion. He opens his mouth to say something but the door is slammed on him. "Hurry, hurry, they've got Anthony, they've got my brother," Gale says, looking at the men around him with a pointed look. They nod in understanding and everyone climbs into the car, Louis between two men in the back, his mind racing as they tear out of the driveway, Calum running after them, disappearing in a cloud of dust.

+

Harry parks the car, smirking as he sees the whole lot lacking of vehicles, aside from Michael's, who has probably just arrived. He really didn't want to shoot anybody and scare Louis worse. 

He feels deflated that he doesn't have Thelma's group on board with him, but he'll think of something. He shudders at the thought of Louis getting put in such dangers. He doesn't think he could handle that. He runs his hands through his hair as he clambers out of Calum's car, taking the keys out. He walks over the gravel and furrows his eyebrows at the deep tire marks. Did I scare them bad enough that they fled?, Harry wonders, shrugging it off and hopping up the stairs. 

He steps through the door and his hair blows as he's surrounded by a pale Michael and red-faced Calum. Both are looking at him with something in their eyes, they look wild. "What wrong?," Harry asks, slamming his keys into the table beside the door, bolting up the stairs without another word, ignoring the pull of his muscles. "Louis? Louis! Louis!," he screams, yanking the already cracked door opened. "Where... is... he?," he breathes out as Calum and Michael catch up to him, both very pale. 

They look at each other and Harry steps into the room, looking at the ground where a little puddle of water is. "Gale took him, I... I didn't get to him in time. I don't know how he even got him out of the room, I just had time to get out of the door before they were kicking rocks into my face," Calum stutters and Harry's jaw clenches. 

Both boys take a step back as Harry stands up and rips the lamp off the table and throws it to the ground, then he tears the blanket and sheet off the bed, he kicks it once, twice, the times and collapses on it, pressing his face into the mattress as tears flood his eyes and soak into the cold mattress. "Th - They're taking him to England! They're not going to protect him like he needs to be protected!," Harry screams, biting his lip so hard that pain shoots up his entire body and blood fills his mouth.

Michael bounces from foot to foot in nervousness. He doesn't like to see his leader crying into his arms like this, he's never seen him shed a tear before. "We'll get him back, sir," he says, trying to comfort his boss, but his back muscles just ripple as he cries again. Calum and Michael both flinch and back up in surprise as Harry raises up without any warning. He slowly looks down at his wrist and sobs loudly at his watcher, burying his face in his hands. 

Light pink

17 more hours...


	15. manic

story: seven minutes

part: fifteen // manic

_____

Louis bites his lower lip. 

If any time is a good time to panic, it's probably now. He's in some strange room that is apparently a part of the airport. Gale said that they had to wait for their leader to arrive, and they've been sat here for nearly forty-five minutes. The seven hour plane ride out of the States is lagging on him, but he doesn't trust the people around him enough to take a nap. 

He sighs and looks down at his watcher. It's light pink. He didn't even look at it earlier, so he can't rightly know whether or not he's gotten any closer.

He looks up in surprise as everyone stands in attention. He grips the sides of the seat, and it hits him that he forgot all of his medicine. He has no burn cream, and no pain medication for his ankle. He can feel the last dose he took wearing off, his ankle is starting to throb. 

Gale nudges him with his dark arm and he stands up shakily, but quickly. "Miss Thelma," he smiles and Louis notices the light haired, stone faced woman that has entered the room with two guns on either of her hips. "This is the soldier we told you about, the one tiny enough to get in through the ducts," Gale informs her. Soldier?, Louis inwardly gasps. 

The woman nods and furrows her dark eyebrows almost condescendingly, stepping forward, right up into Louis' space. He feels smaller than he really ever has under this woman's gaze. She looks him up and down and he has an obtuse idea of what he currently looks like; pale, dirty, frightened, fatigued, weak. He can't deny himself of being any of those things. "Introduce yourself," she orders and he swallows. He doesn't know if he can talk around the lump in his throat.

"Un, I - I'm Louis. Louis Tomlinson," he stutters and Thelma's dark brown eyes blow wide, she whips around to look at Gale, who looks very afraid now. 

She takes a step towards the tall man, and he metaphorically tucks his tail between his legs. She knew the name was familiar, but seeing his face clicked everything together. Every member of every gang knows what Harry Styles' soulmate looks like. "You... took... Harry Styles' soulie?," she drawls out and Louis burrows himself deeper in Calum's sweater. 

"He wanted to come," Gale says quickly and one of Thelma's eyebrows raises. "No! Really! He came here to help us with the Den crisis. He's on board with being a spy, he even flew all the way from New Hampshire to here," he says, even though he knows that Thelma knew where they flew from, Harry had been the one to contact her. She turns to look at Louis, and the shorter boy catches Gale's glance, swallowing thickly. 

"Is that true? Are you on board to do that? It's dangerous, kid. This ain't no game, you could get hurt. Fatally," she says, putting her hands on her muscular and armored waist. Louis' bottom lip wobbles, but he stops it quickly, clenching his hands so tight that his nails nearly pierce his skin. 

He nods. "That's fine. I need to help," he whispers, anxiously running a hand through his limp hair. Thelma purses her lips and nods. "What all would I be doing?," he asks, he doesn't know what they mean by him going through vent shafts.

+

Harry sits in the chair, his face in his hands and angry, frantic tears stream down his face. "You... what?," Jesy growls, her swollen and bruised face contorted in rage at the sobbing man in front of her. 

This is no way to treat her leader, but she can not control herself. "He was gone when I got back," he hiccups, showing her his watcher, which is slightly darker pink with 7 more hours... illuminating. "There's no way I can get to England in time!," he cries, fisting his curls in his hands, pulling at them violently. 

Jesy's eyes widen looking at his watcher and her fat lip wobbles, a rogue year slips down her face. If she had both of her legs, she would swim to Louis and save him, cross the whole ocean. "You aren't giving up," she tells him, "You're going to get one of your people in there and you're going to save him. I don't care what it takes, he's not dying today!"

Harry sniffles and looks over at Michael, who nods and leaves, typing away on his phone. "I can't lose him, I just got him," he whispers and Jesy's scowl softens. He gnaws on his bottom lip and stands up from the uncomfortable green hospital chair, it slides backwards with the force of it and it hits the wall. "I'm not going to lose him," he growls, his sadness turning to rage. 

"Har - ," Jesy gets out before Harry has crossed the room and thrown the door opened, she winces as it slams shut. She closes her eyes and can see Louis, the Louis from two weeks ago, the one who wasn't pale and scared, was lively and vibrant. She falls backwards on the cot as she starts to count her dead, the emotionally or physically. 

Liam turns his head as Harry comes out of the room with a crash. His hair is curly like it naturally is, he has no time for pristine quiffs or clear glasses with wine. "What's up?," he asks, following Harry as he storms out of the building, nearly shoving nurses over. Liam nearly trips over his feet as they zig-zag around crazily, Harry's chest heaving more and more heavy. "Harry," he says, using his first name. He didn't stop, but he does grunt, his hands clenched by his sides. 

They continue on in silence and Liam grits his teeth. "Where is Clifford?," Harry asks gruffly just as the blue haired boy comes in from outside, his nose nipped by the cold New Hampshire January. Harry picks up his pace and Liam does, too, Harry's fingers are circulating electricity in his rage. "Details," he demands with a growl. Michael shrivels a little and Harry's eyes narrow. 

"Murs and Lloyd are on their way to the general vicinity... nobody knows where they are. So they're going to have a squad of people around the perimeter of the Den, waiting for them there. They're going to try to get to Louis and they're going to fly to Africa and we're going to meet them there. I've got a plane set and ready to fly," he says, talking as they walk through the parking lot. 

Harry looks up at the sky. Cloudy, most likely going to rain. He looks back down at Michael and shakes his head, keeping his footfalls heavy as his oxygen intake seems to be on fire, his lungs feel ablaze. "I'm going to England. Them just being there should by him a few hours, maybe I can get there before then," he bites, jamming his hand into his jean pocket for his keys. 

He pulls them out and holds them in the palm of his hand. He squeezes his hand into a fist with so much pressure, it's almost piercing the skin. The pain feels appropriate. "I'll, um, I'll inform the pilot of the change of location, then," Michael stammers as they reach Harry's rover. Liam shuffles around to the passenger seat and Michael scoots into the back, dialing the number to their private airport.

"Do that," Harry says shortly and Michael nods with a gulp, rattling off words to somebody to the other side of the phone, rapid-fire. His accent starts to get nearly indistinguishable when he gets like this, but Harry stops listening to him as he ignites the car, clenching his fingers on the wheel, putting the car in reverse. Where should I go?," Harry thinks bitterly, flexing and reflexing his palms. He does that for a few moments until he realizes that he's actually melting the rubber on the steering-wheel. 

He breathes in and out deeply and puts the car into drive, peeling out of the hospital. He didn't get what he was planing from Jesy. He doesn't rightly know what he was expecting, but he dumbly assumed that she'd be able to create some scheme that they can't just because she's known him for so long.

Liam, trying to keep attention away from himself, starts fiddling with his wrist tattoo from a while ago. His fingers circle the loops of the letters and he tries to not point out that the car reeks of burned rubber, he knows that Harry already knows. "Okay, sir, we have a departure time for forty-five minutes from now," Michael says, putting his phone in his lap.

Harry nods curly and Michael purses his lips. He's never seen Harry this frantic, or desperate. "We'll get him, Liam says calmly as Harry hands clinch the steering-wheel tighter, his breath shallowing.

+

"I don't know if I'll fit in that," Louis says as they bring out a piece of duct work that is the exact same as what's inside of the Den. They've decided to test Louis before sending him off, and this is starting to make him nervous. The idea of what they might be doing to Harry is the only thing keeping him up. 

Thelma crosses her arms. "See the problem? You are the only person who we are aware of that is potentially small enough to fit into there, who isn't a child. Are you going to try or not?," she says sternly and Louis sighs quietly, regretting the moment he took his first breath. "We are leaving in thirty minutes, if you want to have any practice, I'd be getting to it," she adds, watching as Louis nods and sinks to his hands and knees.

"There you go," says Gale, and Louis shudders, he's feeling sort of molested right about now. 

Louis ignores the discomfort and puts the palm of his hand into the box, it's cold and doesn't feel very sturdy. He closes his eyes and puts his knee in, then his other hand, then his knee. His hurt ankle chaffs as he crawls and he winces, letting out a faint huff or pain. He curses at himself for his weakness and pushes forward. 

Where these people found a twenty-feet stretch of connected air-duct is beyond Louis, he's too focused on how bad his back is starting to ache as he crawls thorough the tight space, trying to keep his breathing even as his slight claustrophobia sets in. In, out, in, out, one hand, another hand, keep moving, he repeats in a frantic inward mantra. He looks to the side as a vent appears beside him. He looks at it and looks it up and down to tell whether it's suppose to be seen from the top or bottom. Top, he finds out, he can see very clearly. 

He breathes out as he gets near the end, his body aching from being cramped and the explosion not two days ago. "Okay, that's easy enough," he says, dusting his dirty knees off as he climbs out, standing up right. Thelma is actually smiling now, but it's not exactly friendly, it's a devious grin, like she's got the ultimate weapon.

She claps her hands together nearly soundlessly and everyone turns to look at her. She takes a step on the tile and her heels click. Louis remembers how much Harry loathed hearing Leigh-Anne's heels on the tile, and he understands that now. "Okay. I think it's time for us to go, the longer we're here, the less information we will have to our advantage," she says and everyone nods in obedient agreement. She suddenly grabs his upper arm with her spidery fingers and he flinches, something he thought he got over. "Let's go," she instructs, and Gale takes over, grabbing his other arm and pulling him out of the room. 

"Where are we going?," Louis asks, trying to keep himself from dragging his heels on the ground and rooting himself there, or maybe letting the Earth suck him in, just to get him away from these shady people. He looks around as about ten other men join them. 

Gale looks down at him and tightens his grip on his sore arm, making him wince. "To the Den, obviously. She's right, this is time wasting," he says, and Louis gingerly tries to free his arm, to no avail. So he just goes pliant and lets himself be dragged through the airport, keeping his head down to not meet eye-contact with concerned passers-by.

He numbly goes down the stairs, counting them to keep himself calm. Ten... eleven... twelve... thirteen... fourteen... fifteen... sixteen... seventeen... eighteen... nineteen... twenty... twenty-one..., he counts, blinking his eyes every time he gets down one. He finally lifts his head as he feels the wind entrapping him, his inner windier feels the breeze with joy, a small portion of comfort entrances him as they walk through the parking-lot, all but shoving him into the car.

As the man driving starts the car and puts it in reverse, Louis starts to think about the future, anything but the present. 

He starts thinking about their future children, maybe they're wedding. He thinks about how nearly painful his soulie bond is about right now, it feels like a string is literally pulling at something in his chest. And the last part he ponders over makes his chest hurt worse, so he goes back to the start, ignoring the scenery outside as building turn into trees.

With a number as high as eight, Louis can only guess to how many children they will have together. He could easily have five at one time, so if he gets pregnant twice with the ease his body allows, then they would have more than 10 children. He doesn't worry about having enough money to feed and clothe them, he's more concerned about their educations, their social life once they grow to that age where they can communicate with other babies. How will they go to a proper school of their dad is wanted for dead?

He knows he shouldn't actually be focusing on such far away things, which may never even come to life, but that's just another thing for him to be stressed about and he is very stress prone. He's only ever had two names picked out, though he figures he should have more, considering he's known how fertile he is when his mum told him when he was eleven.

Fiona and Lytle. He smiles just thinking about those names. He frowns just seconds later though when the road starts to get rocky, and he yelps is agony as his ankle goes forward and slams into the seat, the car stopping so fast he almost hits his face on the back of the seat in front of him

"What's happened?," Gale asks, leaning over the console to look out the window. Through the desert dust that the car has picked up, they can see the human barricade. There's people on the roofs of cars and kneeled down, both with guns in their hands, ready to shoot. 

Louis' heart beats fast in nervousness. Have we already gotten found?, Louis aches, he can already envision what's to come. Hours of torture, the firing squad if they're lucky. He closes his eyes tight and a hot tear falls down.

+

Nobody speaks as the airplane continues to propel them towards England, towards his soulie.

He can feel the soulie bond pulling at him harshly, and he knows that, if he's still alive, Louis can feel it, too. He doesn't dare look at his watcher, he put a piece of industrial duct-tape over it before he went mad, catching the dark pink out of his peripheral vision.

He continues to tap his feet on the floor of the plane, gnawing at his lip where it opened and started bleeding so long ago. "Three minutes to land time," says Gabriel, and Harry silently nods at him, putting his head in his hand, breathing terribly slow. 

Michael and Liam both exchange glances. The age old ache to physically comfort the young man is forever growing, but they both know better than to touch him. "I can feel it," Harry whispers and both men look over at him in surprise. "I can feel him, I can feel it yanking at my insides, the bond, it hurts," he whispers, clutching at his chest. Liam's eyebrows frown and he takes a chance, going to wrap an around his leader, who automatically tenses. "Please don't," he says, and he sounds so spent, his shoulders taut.

Liam nods and recoils, keeping his arms to himself, frowning. 

The three of them look outside as they descend, the clouds getting smaller and smaller. "We're here," says Gabriel, which is code word for 'brace yourself'. Everyone holds onto their seats and buckle up as the pilot brings them down to a rock stop on one of Harry's father's old, remote landing spots that planes don't generally take off from, neither too or fro. "The Den is about a twenty minute walk from here, about four by car," Gabriel informs them and Harry quickly unbuckles, his skin crawling with the need to get to Louis. "Do you have a car here?," he asks and Michael points out of the window to the white car that is parked beside their driver, a man Harry made sure was somebody he knew and could recognize. "Good luck lads... I'll circle around the area and I'll lift you back when you get him. You'll get him," Gabriel says quickly and Harry nods at him, much to in-focus with finding his soul mate than listening.

A soul bond makes you nearly animalistic, and Harry and Louis' was strong from the get-go, since they first slammed into each other. Harry, shoving Michael to the side, opens the door to the plane and jumps out with no problem. He doesn't look behind him to see if the others are following, but they are, he just starts running, and the driver gets in as soon as Harry hops in the passenger seat.

Michael and Liam are in for a narrow moment before the car is peeling away, dust kicking up around them. "Hurry," Harry demands, if they hurry they can be there within a minute and a half, hopefully no longer. He doesn't even bother buckling up, he keeps his eyes on the road, and in no time at all, they get a glimpse of the cars and people that are lined up. Harry reaches under the seat and grabs the gun that is mandatory for all gang members, and checks for if it's loaded.

Behind him, Liam and Michael do the same, the driver pulls out a knife from the glove compartment.

Harry's eyes squint in trepidation, this could be William's and/or Poe's people, and they, and Louis could be in so much trouble, dead or as good as dead. "Who is that?," Liam asks, his voice gravely.

Harry shrugs his shoulders as they drive through the unsettled dust and looks out the window. The driver puts the car in park as the very middle of the barricade, and nobody moves, the only thing actually moving is the dust. Harry looks around and tries to swallow, but it catches in his throat once e sees a familiar head of blue hair, with a very familiar feathery haired boy under her arms.

He opens the door and everyone shouts, outside of the car and in, but he ignores them. He tears tail until he gets to Louis, who has tears rolling down his face, reaching out for him. "Harry!," he cries, running from Cher's embrace.

Harry grabs him by the arm and their teeth violently clank together as their mouths collide.

Nobody says anything, even the dust seems frozen in the air, they stay like that for a few long moments until the loud shot explodes into the still air, the bullet piercing his skin before he can blink.


	16. angst

story: seven minutes

part: sixteen // angst

___

Tap, tap, tapping his feet on the ground, he buries his face in his hands. He can not believe his rotten luck that things keep happening. He looks up and peeks through his fingers, looking at Harry's face. 

He looks like he's sleeping. Technically speaking, he is. After they airlifted him to the hospital, they put him under some sort of medicine that was so strong, it pulled him under consciousness, where he's been for over five hours. Louis hears the door creak and he looks away from his pale soulie, greeted by the same doctor who has came in each time to check in on him. "Hello, lad," he says, repeating what he's said every time he sees him. 

Louis raises up in the seat. "When is he going to wake up?," he asks, straight to the point, repeating the same thing as answer each time. His eyebrows raise as the doctor chuckles, then shows him a needle, turning to push the liquid through the IV bag that is attached to Harry's wrist. Louis watched to aqua colored fluid go down. 

Capping and throwing away the used syringe, the doctor turn his attention to Louis. "What I just gave him should do the trick, it's made to fight the effect of drowsiness, it'll only take a few moments to go into effect. When he's awake, I do not proscribe hugging him too hard, being rough at all. The bullet, as you should know, snapped a rib. So... be gentle, yeah? When he's up, I'll let you talk, but buzz me from the red call button right beside his bed once you're ready," he says, washing his hands in the sink, looking at Louis through the reflection. 

The young man nods, he didn't plan to hurt Harry anyways. "Okay, yes, I'll do that," he promises, which sounds sort of awkward. He's not very good with strangers. The doctor just smiles and nods at him though, opening the door with his elbow, waving his departure. Louis bites the corner of his lower lip and looks down at Harry. 

His eyelids are fluttering, his fingers are twitching, and his face is regaining color. Louis sits back and looks at him with worry as he starts to whimper, his eyes clenching and unclenching tight. And then he breathes in a tight, harsh breath of air, and his eyes fly open. Louis watches as his chest heaves, he brings his hand up to the spot on his shoulder where they performed the surgery, where it's bandaged up with white cotton and winces. He watches as he stiffens and starts looking around, and how his whole demeanor changes when he finally sees him, curled up in the chair beside his bed. "Hello," he says gravelly, and Louis nods. 

"How do you feel?," he asks, giving Harry a hand as he reaches out for him. He gasps in surprise as he pulls him forward, almost colliding into him. Up close, Louis can see his lips, like his own, are a little busted from the force of their teeth and mouths earlier. Louis blushes at the memory of his first kiss, then frowns upon thinking of what happened just seconds after. 

Harry chuckles and looks up at him, surprising Louis by running a smooth hand through his knotted up hair. "I feel kinda... well, I've been better," he says lightheartedly, but then he turns serious, a cold stone of emotions swelling in his chest. "Are you okay? D - Did they do anything to you? What did they do that made you go with them? I won't let anybody take you again," he whispers the last part, clutching onto Louis' hand tightly. Louis swallows, feeling stupid for getting Harry into this position. If he had've been wiser, Harry wouldn't have gone back to the UK, and he wouldn't have gotten shot. 

Louis sniffles and Harry looks at him curiously. "They, um... they told me that you were taken in some kind of raid. I wasn't smart about it. I had heard the door slam, so I didn't know if he was lying or not...," he says, bowing his head. Harry looks at him in confusion, trying to piece the puzzle together.

"Oh," he says after a few moments, as everything finally registers. Louis looks up for a seconds, but looks back down at his hands not a moment later. "You thought they had taken me? And... they told you that you spying was going to help get me back?," he asks, he doesn't want that to be the truth, but Louis' subtle head nod proves it. "I'm literally going to kill Gale," he says, and he means it, he's not just being figurative or dramatic, he will actually kill him.

"Don't," Louis murmurs, knowing full well that Harry actually will go through with his words. "I just want the violence and pain to end," he whispers, and they both tighten their holds on each other's hands.

Harry sighs and looks around again, wincing at the pristine wall. He can't do hospitals. Nope. "How about we get me signed out of here, then we can go home, the home we had set, and we'll plan from there?," he prepositions, and Louis looks at him like he's crazy.

He furrows his eyebrows and Harry looks at him curiously. "H - What? No, we can't just check you out, you've got a broken rib," he huffs and Harry laughs, but winces slightly at the sting it causes.

"Just one? Yeah, I've had worse," he says, and Louis feels even more flustered by his vagueness. "Now, will you please call the doctor in? I need to get out of here, I don't really... hospitals aren't my scene," he says, and Louis shakes his head.

"This is a gang hospital, it's not public - ," he says in confusion at Harry's rush, but he stops talking at the stern look on Harry's face. He swallows and nods, standing up and reaching over Harry's head, pressing the red call button, settling back in the chair, regaining his position for watching Harry, who is looking around the hospital in a sweat. 

+

Louis sits in the familiar living-room with a cup of Yorkshire in his hands, the warmth soothing his fingers against the chill in the room. 

Harry is upstairs in his room. Turns out, if the leader of a gang demands to be released from a hospital five hours after he got shot, he gets what he wants.

So that is why Louis is bunkered downstairs, keeping his distance from Harry. He's mad at him, he's so mad. And he's going mad thinking back to the look on Harry's face watching doctors or nurses come in to check him out. And, he actually cried out when one of them touched his upper arm. He wasn't even hurt on that side of his body.

As soon as they got home, about two hours ago, Louis demanded an explanation. Which Harry, of course, refused. Louis can think back to their time at the cafe not three days ago, when Harry told him that there is things that he hasn't told him about himself, that he might not even be able to ever tell him. And Louis can't do that, he can't have secrets pull them apart like loose strings that unravel exquisite jumpers.

So he gave him an ultimatum; tell him what's wrong, and he'll comfort him, or keep to himself and tell Louis when he's ready to talk, until then, he's on his own. Until it's time for a meal or medicine dosage. 

He does feel guilty. They just got reunited, and he wants nothing more than to cuddle up to Harry and just go to sleep for thirty years, but he needs to hold his ground for just a little while, and they'll be alright.

So he sits and sips his tea. 

He hasn't known Harry long, but he knows that he won't be able to hold off for long. So, he's hardly surprised when he hears Harry call his name out once. He simply sets the cup down on the table and walks through the living room and into the hallway. He silently opens the door to the stairs and takes them one at a time, his ankle sort of sore. 

Getting to the last step, he goes straight to Harry's room, he doesn't bother knocking. "Hey," Harry says and Louis nods, walking into the room, shutting the door behind him even though they are the only two in the whole mansion. "Are you okay?," he asks, and Louis knows that he's stalling, so he sighs and tilts his head to the side, squinting one eye. "If you're wanting to know what's going on, you might want to sit down and get comfortable... it's going to be a lengthy story," he sighs, and Louis nods, sitting at the bottom edge of the bed. "Please come up here... I'm going to need you close," he whispers and Louis nods and silently crawls over to him, making sure not to crawl over his legs.

He scoots over to him and tries to get close to him without hurting hi bandaged body. "Thank you," he whispers, kissing Harry's bare shoulder blade. Harry swallows and nods, building up his courage to recount his story.

He makes sure he has a grip around Louis' waist before saying anything. "Okay," he gets out first, his throat feeling like it's about to swell shut. "Okay... how my life started, how I started, is kinda difficult to recount. I haven't given you much, I know that, b - but I'm going to change that," he rambles and Louis nods. He squeezes his waist once, and takes a long, deep breath. "Okay. Well, um, when I was born... we were already on the run. And a lot of the things I required as an infant were either ignored, or they weren't able to get them. I got nearly every infection in the book, I still have some effects from that today. I have a small twitch, and my eyes can't stand hardly any brightness at all. 

"And after I reached the age of four... God... okay, well, um... sorry... okay. I, uh, I had a little sister. T - They names her Genevieve. I called her Gen, because I was only four, I couldn't pronounce that," he chuckles wetly and Louis looks at him in concern, but he doesn't look back at him, Harry just keep talking, like a robot nearly. "A - And me and my older sister... we loved her and looked after her. Gemma, my older sister, was finally old enough to make sure that any baby my parents had would be cared for properly... but, G - Gemma, um... okay, this is h - hard... um, Gem - Gemma got sh - shot at a grocery store. Getting Gen some formula. 

"My parents never told me what happened, I saw her picture on the news a few days after she didn't return. My m - mum... she cried and cried. So, of course, I cried and cried, too. Our dad, he wasn't very good at showing his emotions. So he took it out on the gang, he forced them to kill more, to do worse and worse things. A - And one day... I'll never, ever, ever, ever forget it... One day, Gen was asleep in her crib. And I heard her window slam from my bedroom. I went in there in time to see the man... snatch her. I screamed and he pointed a gun at me, it came out of no where. That was the first time I got shot. It was in the leg...

"They... it's all of my fault... they found... Genevieve's little body... wrapped in a duffle bag. S - She was still wrapped up in her blanket. I don't know how she died, t - that's all I heard my parents say before I went unconscious again. I was well into being into the hospital by then, and they had me on some type of medicine that makes you drowsy. After I had let Gen's killer take her, and murder her... my dad never looked at me the s - same... he blamed me until he took his last breathe. And if there is an after life, he's still blaming me from there, even if he's holding her in his arms right now," Harry says it all slowly, and he's crying, hiccuping beween words and concerning Louis horribly.

"Harry, stop -"

"And then I was six, and I started school. They had finally found a good enough district for me to go to school, their last child. My mum was so protective. She didn't even give the school permission let me play on the outdoors play ground. I think it was about four months into the school year w - when I rode the bus to my house, and the driver was irritated becasue it was hard to move around all of the police banners and... I remember that. And I... I also remember all of the children screaming as they zoned into the blood stain on the grass in front of the house. I saw a few pieces of bone, I think, yeah... it was pieces of my dad's skull.

"And my mum was so wrecked. I do not think that thing about hurting when your soulie dies is a myth or something that everybody says. Because m - my mum was shrieking like she was getting stabbed. And then we moved. We got out of Ireland, probabl about the time that you were born," he says, taking a breath to kiss Louis' temple. "And we took an airplane to the US. Dad rarely let me on planes because getting into airports... as you know... is dangerous... so I was kind of excited. I didn't know what was going on.

"So we lived in this little flat, we tried to lay low. We could've afforded the whole flat complex. And... she chose a bad neighborhood. I told you about how I used to be allowed to swim outside? Well... I, um... I d - didn't tell you what happened this once, this one time. I was just swimming alone. I was probably around fifteen, sixteen years old. T - There was this man..."

"No," Louis interrupts, plugging his ears, and they hold each other for a few moments, neither of them talking. But Harry, robotic Harry, starts talking, and Louis tries to cover his ears harder, but it doesn't work, he can still hear.

"He overpowered me so easily. I was very lanky back then, one of the reasons that I try to stay more buff these days. He - He... He took my to his flat and forced me into a chair. He strapped my arms down on the sides with belts and put a dirty rag in my mouth so I couldn't make any noises... and suddenly, there was a knife. It might've been the blade out of a razor, I don't know... but he just... started carving. He carved and carved and carved. And he punched and he kicked and he bit open my left ear. And after he was d - done with my arms, he ripped open my shirt and started there, too. By the time the police and my hysterical mum found me, the man was long gone. He was from Poe's gang, he had been waiting from the right time to strike, the landlord said he moved in the same day we did, he stalked us for ten years.

"And I was so close to death that day. At it's door, but... the people saved me. I know... I shouldn't be afraid of the doctors, they're there to help, but... any touch... even a small one... I can't do it," he murmurs, and Louis looks at him. He looks spent. And then he's hyperaware of their intertwined arms. "Except your's," he says quietly, and Louis looks at him with wet eyes, his heart crumbling down to pieces. "You're touch lingers like that man's doesn't, it stays warm, I can't feel the cold blade anymore, or his rough fingers. I feel warm"


	17. albeit

story: seven minutes

part: seventeen // albeit

____

Louis lies on his back, clutching Harry as he clutches him. Neither of them can form any conversation, so they just listen to the storm building outside of their window. Harry is radiating heat, and Louis figures he has a fever, but every time he gets to go and get him some Ibroprofen or something, Harry holds him so tightly, it's hard to breathe. So he just lies back down until Harry's whimpering goes down. 

He figures that whatever strength and mental resistance he had put up has crumbled down. So he starts humming to him, one of the lyrics from The Killers, just one of the lines he happened to remember. "I got soul, but I'm not a soldier," he sings quietly and Harry nuzzles further into him, ignoring the pain in his ribs. "I got soul, but I'm not a soldier... I got soul, but I'm not a soldier... I got soul but I'm not a soldier...," he continues and he tries not to tense as the room lights up, lightening erupting the sky outside, illuminating their room for a few moments. 

As thunder ripples through the chilly air, Louis squeaks, and Harry brings him closer with a little nudge. "You're okay, I've got you," he whispers, the first words he's said since he went silent about 45 minutes ago. "I won't let anything hurt you, or get you. Never again... Nobody else," and then it literally hits Louis, like a million and one tons of bricks. 

That's why Harry doesn't want him alone so bad! That's why he's so protective, and doesn't want him out of his sight! Every time that happens, someone he loves gets hurt or killed. So, he swallows and nods, entangling their legs quickly as lightning comes through again. "It's just... loud," Louis says. He didn't like the loud clap sound even when he was younger, but now... he has to clench his eyes shut in order to not surface the memory of Harry getting shot, the clap of the thunder is an emotional trigger.

Harry chuckles and Louis head moves up and down with his chest. He looks up at him, and he smiles, his dimple prominent, very poke-able. So he does, he pokes it and Harry scrunches his face up and laughs at him. "I guess it is, hm?," he says quietly. They stare at each other as it starts raining. Scratch that. Pouring. "You're eyes are very blue," he says, which causes Louis to blink a few, quick times. He breaks eye contact and blushes. Harry picks his head up by lifting his chin, making sure to hold eye contact. "They're beautiful. And you're very handsome. There hasn't been many moments like this... has there? We haven't been able to just sit down in peace. I haven't been able to properly coddle you," he says, pulling Louis even closer, "I haven't even really told you how handsome you are. Well... you are. You're so handsome that handsome isn't even a strong enough word" Louis blushes worse at the new affection and Harry squeezes his hand. 

He can barely see Harry's features in the dim light, but he can see the soft expression on his face. He cuddles more into him, and curls his arm around Harry's firm, muscular torso. "You're very beautiful," Louis murmurs, and Harry leans down to kiss his forehead. He winces and suppresses a hiss of pain as he lies back down, taking the pressure off his ribs. "You don't think you're doing a good job... but you are. You're very protective and you're sweet and thoughtful. You're great, I couldn't ask for a better soulie," he whispers, and Harry tenses at his last sentence, Louis can feel his heart pick up, right on his elbow, where it's put on his chest. 

"You...," Harry stammers, staying quiet for a few seconds, breathing in deeply, "You think that I'm a good soulie? A good person? You're happy to be with me? You don't feel stuck?" Louis raises up, into a sitting position and looks at Harry. Harry curls into himself a little bit, thinking he's crossed the line into needy and clinginess. "Sorry...," he whispers and Louis furrows his eyebrows. 

Maneuvering himself with his hurt ankle and sensitive arm, Louis sits up and plops down with his bum on the backs of his calves. "Harry," he whispers, leaning down to put their foreheads together. As soon as they touch, all of the lights that spill in from the hallway go out.

Harry flushes. "Oops," he murmurs, and the lights turn back on. "I don't... my abilities... um, sorry," he stammers and Louis laughs breathily at him, which makes Harry give a shy smile. They both flinch when another flash of lightning comes in from the window, and the wind howls as the thunder shakes the house. 

Growing nervous from the storm, Louis crawls up and lifts the blanket, bunkering down, cuddling up to Harry as tight as he can get, feeling his warmth through the quilt. 

He can also feel the slight weightlessness that he usually get when he's around water or high wind levels. His teachers told him that it's because his abilities are so strong, very powerful, he's physically in sync with his inner element. "Do you know how long it's going to last? The storm," he whispers into the darkness as Harry wraps an arm around his neck. 

Harry hums and Louis puts his head on his chest again. Louis' shoulders sag a little from their tenseness as Harry starts to scratch at them with the top of his fingernails. "I don't know... do you have somewhere to be?," he asks cheekily and Louis scoffs. 

"Actually, I think I have an appointment in the bed across the hall," he says sassily, and his breath is knocked out of him by the sudden grip Harry has on him, desperately keeping him in place. "Do you want me to stay here?," Louis whispers. He's been debating to himself over the components of sleeping in the same, or different beds. 

On one hand, he could keep his resolution to start their relationship slow... or he could accept the fact that nothing in their relationship is going to be slow, ever. "Please," Harry whispers, his voice almost void of sound. Louis nods and shuffles closer, his cheek almost pressed to the cotton of Harry's bandage.

So, they lay there, in the bed, in their home, and they listen to the storm together. Louis figures he would've ended up back in here if he had've gone to his room, the storm is getting pretty bad, and it's kind of terrifying. He gives a surprised and frightened squeak as a flash of lightning comes through the house, the thunder shaking the floorboards. Then, the lights shut off again and he blinks several times. "Um...," he mutters, looking up at Harry, who looks surprised, looking down at Louis. 

"Wasn't me. Must've been the storm," he whispers, and Louis swallows with a nod, fisting the blanket in his hands tighter, burying his nose in Harry bicep, which is as hard as a rock. "How come you're so afraid of thunderstorms?," he asks, his lips barely moving. 

Louis cuddles farther into Harry's warmth as the storm picks up even more, the rain assaulting the windows. "I, um, my little sisters locked me outside during one, when we were little. It was... there was lightening everywhere, and the trees were swaying really bad... and I just really don't like loud noises," he answers, feeling silly for having such a weak fear. But Harry kisses his forehead nonetheless, leaving his lips to linger. They sit like this for a little while, and the storm doesn't seem to be letting up. "I like this," Louis murmurs, and Harry's chin moves over the top of his head as he looks down. 

"Hm?," Harry hums, picking leisurely at the cotton of his bandage. 

Louis shrugs. "Just... laying here, I guess. I like laying here with you, without doing anything. It's nice," he says, taking a hold on Harry's hand to keep it from picking at the bandage more. 

Harry cracks a smile, and they intertwine fingers. "I like this, too," he admits, and Louis' mouth mirrors Harry's in a happy, lazy grin. "Hey... um, Lou?," He adds, his face a little somber as he starts to think. 

"Yeah?," he asks, looking up at Harry. 

Swallowing what feels like his tongue, Harry continues. "Thanks for, um, for not treating me like I'm weaker, maybe less than what I am. Yeah, um, thanks. Thank you. It means a lot," he breathes, and Louis smiles at him and shakes his head, stroking his upper cheekbone softly. 

+

Putting his glasses on his face clumsily, Louis looks around the vaguely familiar room. It only takes his drowsy brain a few moments to realize that he's in Harry's room, in Harry's bed, with Harry laying by his side. His eyes are wide open as he looks at Louis, as if he's scared of him. "Good morning...," Louis murmurs, yawning as he stretches. "It's not storming anymore?," he asks, noticing the lack of rain and abundance of sunshine. "What time is it?," he murmurs, catching Harry's eye.

"I, um... around ten in the morning," he says, and Louis nods. Settling his arms down from his stretch, Louis makes to get off the bed, kicking the covers away, but Harry grabs at his hand, holding onto his pinkie. "Where are you going?," he frowns, trying to sit up but falling back down with a winded grunt and pained hiss. Louis scrambles back to him, patting at his face to make sure that he's okay. 

Bringing his hands down to Harry's chest, he looks up at him. "Are you okay?," he asks quickly, and Harry nods at him, clenching his teeth together. "Okay... and I'm going to change into some of my clothes, I think Cal's clothes are a little too big on me," he says, motioning to the big jumper over his torso. Harry nods slowly, he would feel better with his soulie in something that he bought for him. 

So he releases his finger and nods with his lips pursed. It doesn't take him long to get through the room and into the hallway, he's getting quite used to the brace that is keeping his bones in place. Opening the door to the room he had previously chosen, the blue one, he goes straight to the closet, where his new clothes were hung up. He starts stripping right there, tossing the shirt and jumper on to the bed, grabbing one of the silky shirts Harry bought him from Burberry. He drops the long sweats to the ground and just kicks them away, unhanging a pair of soft white joggers that go well with the light blue shirt.

The clothes he has on now feel much lighter and much more expensive than Calum's, and it feels weird to be wearing such exquisite things. 

With a quick swoop, he picks the old, dirty sweats off the ground and collects the shirts from the bed, tossing them into the convenient clothes basket that is beside the wardrobe door. Making sure to not leave a mess, Louis crosses back into the room adjacent, his ankle dragging a little. "That looks very good on you," Harry compliments surprisingly and Louis blushes hotly. He's never been very graceful at accepting compliments.

He twiddles the end of his shirt, and runs a hand through his hair with the other. "Thank you," he murmurs, a small smile etched on his face. "Um, do you want me to go get your medicine? I need to take mine, as well," he says and Harry licks his bottom lip, his eyebrows in that state between raising up and furrowing.

He nods after a few moments though. "Yeah, sure, but only if you actually need to get yours," he says, cracking the knuckles in his fingers. Louis smiles at him and nods without a word, going back down the hallway. Clutching the arm-rail to keep himself stable, he nearly stumbles down the staircase. 

He freezes, though, when he hears the clattering in what sounds like the kitchen. He tenses automatically and looks around, spotting the small plant to the side of the room. Silent as he can, he moves his hands, pulling the water out of the flowers, which die automatically, turning brown and fragile.

Tiptoeing to the best of his abilities with his obscuring case, he goes through the livingroom with the water levitating beside him. The sounds get louder the closer to the kitchen he gets, which proves that the person in the house is in there. With a nervous, shakiy hand, he puts his fingers to the wood of the door. Without looking at whoever it is, he expands the water and sends it towards the person, who slams backwards and hits the wall with he force of the water. Louis freezes it with his eyes clinched shut and hears the person - a man - yelp.

With a grunt, the man looks around. "Louis?," he asks, and Louis recognizes his face. And as he opens his eyes, he recognizes the soft brown hair and eyes.

Taking a step forward, he releases the ice grip, and Liam breathes out in relieve, his chest heaving as air is able to get through to his previously compressed airways. "What are you doing here?," Louis asks, tilting his head to the side. He feels bad for freezing Liam, but he won't apologize for trying to protect himself and Harry. 

Walking away from the wall, Liam shakes his shirt out which is soaking wet. Without warning, Louis sends a jet of cool air, which dries Liam immediately, albeit his hair poofs out. "Oi!," he huffs as his breath is knocked out of him once again. "And I'm here because I heard that Harry got shot. I was sent to care for him and you, since I heard your leg also got beaten pretty good?"

Louis switches his weight from his feet to most his arms, leaning on the counter. "Okay, well I wasn't informed...," he says defensively. Liam shakes his head at him with a chuckle and Louis' eyebrows furrow.

Taking a run through his frizzed-out hair, Liam walks up to the bar. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that, mate. I just go where they tell me. And... I have something to tell Harry, I guess you're going to want to hear it as well," he says, causing Louis to stand up a little straighter, his eyebrows shooting up. "Oh! No, no, no, it's nothing bad, it's brilliant! Where's Harry?," he insists, and if Louis didn't trust him, he'd find this a little shady.

"In his bedroom upstairs," he answers, and Liam nods. Louis sighs and takes that as a sign to show him the way. "Be quiet," he tells him, feeling like he should have some type of obedience out of somebody coming into his home. With a final nod, they both start through the house.

By the time they get upstairs, Louis' leg has started hurting in that dull ache, and he realizes that he completely forgot the medicine. "Could you not find it - ," Harry lightheartedly jokes, but cuts himself when he sees Liam, putting on his strong, leader face. "What's going on?," he asks, looking over at Louis, who walks to him and glues himself to his side.

Liam looks like he's about to combust, his eyes are twinkling and he looks very excited. In a quick slur of adrenaline, he finally spits it out. "Thelma's group, all of it, agreed to ally with us, and we've gotten one fourth of the Den confiscated and under control, we're getting our people out of there!"


	18. assist

story: seven minutes 

part: eighteen // assist

_____ 

It turns out, it takes 3 months for a broken rib to heal.

And with the gang's resources, Harry's physical therapy works like a charm. Though Louis is not very happy about it, Harry is back behind a gun. Albeit, it's in a firing range, they haven't had any cause for him to go into the front lines yet. 

Calum nods, and Louis crosses his arms over his chest, watching as Harry spreads his legs to shoulder length, getting into position. He does feel better for the fact that Harry is back up, that he's capable of protecting himself, with or without his earthier or fireier abilities, but he still doesn't feel the upmost comfortable with him going back into the leader duties that he insists that he needs to uphold. 

In the last three months, both men have bonded incredibly. More than either could've hoped. Everything has gone, surprisingly, well. Louis flinches in surprise, coming out of his thoughts as Harry fires the gun. "Whoo!," Harry whoops, he hit the target near perfectly in the center, he did hit the red part. He smiles widely in victory and puts the gun down on the table, turning to Louis for approval. 

Smiling at him, Louis jumps off the table and jogs to him - on his newly deemed healed ankle. He wraps his arms around Harry's neck, and the taller man melts into him, ringing his arms around his waist. "Good job," Louis whispers and Harry smiles wider, pressing a bunch of swift kisses to his hair, making him squeal and laugh. 

As they pull apart, Louis catches Calum's eye and fond smirk and blushes, not used to the reaction from PDA. "You two are so cute together," he chuckles and Harry straightens up leisurely, keeping his arm wrapped around Louis' waist, his stomach settling on his stomach. Calum's eyes widen and Louis tilts his head in confusion. "Dude!," he laughs, and Harry startles. "Why didn't you tell me your soulie is pregnant?," he huffs and Harry sputters, and Louis sucks in a surprised breath. 

Looking down at Louis in confusion, Harry asks, "Are you...?" And Louis shakes his head quickly. 

"No... No," he says, and Harry furrows his eyebrows and nods, but keeps his hands on his stomach nonetheless. "So, um, what's going to be happening now that he's more able bodied?," Louis asks, trying to advert the attention away from himself. He isn't pregnant. 

Calum, looking slightly embarrassed, is the one to answer. "We're going to continue to get more people out of the Den, and we're going to try to get a hold on it once more, Poe and William's groups aren't as strong as we considered them to be. They are, obviously, excellent shots, but we do believe they are running low on ammunition, the raids have stopped and our people aren't getting shot on the street anymore," Calum says, leading them out of the prompt Den that has been set up, although it's three inches on a five foot square board in terms of size comparison. "If you, Harry, are up to it, Thelma wanted you to come down to the secured portion of the Den?," Calum suggests, and Louis perks up. 

Grabbing Harry's hand, he bats his eyelashes. "Please, Harry, it's safe, I want to see the Den, I've only heard about it," he insists, and Harry groans, scowling at Calum for saying anything about it in front of Louis, who is increasingly notorious for his curiosity and impressionable. 

Sighing heavily, Harry nods, running a hand through his hair even though the tendons in his chest still tense a bit when he moves. He looks at Louis, who knows that he's won, and pulls him closer. "We've got to set some ground rules first," he says sternly. He's lost Louis once before, and he can't lose him again, especially since they've gotten so close. 

Louis nods quickly. "Okay, yeah," he smiles, he's extremely excited about exploring an area that is talked about so often. 

Harry tugs on the back of Louis' hair to get his attention. "Hey," he says, and Louis focuses back to him, his eyes show that he is eager to listen. "Okay, first off, you'll have to be vigilant one hundred percent of the time. I'm not kidding, it could still get dangerous, even if it is deemed secure," he says sternly, and Louis nods obediently. "And you are to be touching me at all times. Fingers through my belt loops or holding my hand or arm. I don't care how, but I want to feel your touch, make sure that you are still there," he adds, and Louis grabs his other hand for testament, long ago are the days when he flinched from his hands, from his touch.

He brings his body close to Harry's then, as Calum opens the door for them, the sunlight washing in, casting shadows and highlights to the best parts of the three of their faces. "Are we ready to go?," Calum asks hesitantly, still stumbling from his pregnancy comment. Harry heaves a sigh, which does slightly constrict his chest, and nods, Louis smiling with him. "Okay, I'll, um, I'll follow behind you," he says, pointing with a tan finger to direct their attention to the two black cars, one Audi and one Range Rover. 

Harry nods to show that he heard him, and walks over the gravel, digging his keys out of his tight pant pockets. He clicks the button to unlock it and it beeps twice. He steps forwards and opens Louis' door for him, and the shorter boy smiles at him and ducks his head bashfully, like he has every other time Harry does something sweet for him. Making sure Louis is securely in, Harry jogs around to his side of the car, his fingers skin over the handle of the door before he opens, and he slides in with one smooth motion. "How come Cal came over here? He lives in America, why was he the one to come and... what is he doing exactly?," Louis asks as Harry puts the keys in and ignites the Rover, looking behind them before backing up. 

"He volunteered to come and organize everything. He's wicked smart, and he's got the qualifications, so I agreed. Plus, he's my best mate, and I haven't seen him much here recently," Harry shrugs, and Louis can see Calum's Audi following them now, through his window. "Did you have that on the whole time?," Harry asks, suddenly noticing that Louis is wearing one of his leather jackets, on top of a button up (which is buttoned all the way up), with a pair of black skinny jeans (rolled up at the bottom), a pair of Vans (without socks), and his slick glasses. 

Louis looks down at his outfit and looks up with surprised eyes and a muted blush. "I... eh?," he stammers and Harry laughs at him a little, and Louis jostles in surprise as Harry's hand lands on his knee, rubbing at it with a soft touch. Louis swallows and looks at him hesitantly. "I'm not pregnant you know?," he says, chewing on his lower lip. 

Harry raises his eyebrows and looks at him in surprise. "Mm... are you sure?," he asks, almost in disappointment. 

Louis purses his lips and nods. "Yeah, I'd feel it, I think," he says, crossing his legs uncomfortably. "It's a good thing, isn't it?," he asks, looking at Harry in confusion, and his soulie isn't looking back, he's looking at the road with a hard expression. "You want kids right now?," he asks in surprise and Harry shrugs. 

"Would it be so bad?," he murmurs and Louis' eyes widen further. He crosses his arms over his stomach and looks out of the window as the trees and buildings roll by. 

+

Louis looks up groggily as Harry gently shakes his leg, and he blinks his eyes, which don't lose blurriness. "You're glasses are right here, love," Harry says quietly, and Louis scoops them out of his hands with a clumsiness that goes with him just waking up. "We're here," he adds, and Louis looks around quickly, and doesn't know if he should be surprised or not. 

Around them are homes and businesses, only a few people loitering around, and they look sort of shady with their dark clothes and hoodies, but the neighborhood looks relatively nice. "Is this where everyone lives?," he asks, blinking sleepily to Harry, who nods, his hands turning the steering wheel, going through a dark alley. 

"Where most of the England dwellers do, yes, and there's smaller places on the other continents. There's a few in Ireland, Scotland, Greenland, Australia, and in New York, Alabama, Ohio, and Washington in America"

"Oh"

"Not impressive enough?"

"Why Ohio?"

Harry barks out a laugh at that, looking at him in amused confusion. "What's wrong with Ohio?," he chuckles, and Louis shrugs his shoulders, unbuckling himself as Harry parks the car and unbuckles himself. 

"I don't know of that many people who live in Ohio," he says, shrugging, and Harry laughs again, and it only stops when he gets out of the car to open Louis' door. "What?," Louis huffs as Harry continues to laugh. 

Harry chuckles some more as Calum pulls in and parks beside where they did, exiting the car quickly, turning around to lock it. "We shouldn't have to be here for long, I think Thelma is in the cafeteria with some of the wounded, she's trying to butter everyone up, is what I've heard," Calum says, and Louis looks at Harry, nervous about being so close to Thelma, but he doesn't have worry about Gale. 

He was publicly executed. 

"Will Jesy be in there?," he asks, following the two other men as they take what is a familiar path for them, but completely new for Louis. 

"Maybe," Harry says, turning to talk to Calum as he pulls out a ring of keys, stifling through them for a particular key. " - And the Glocks seem to be pretty easy to use, but I think most of them prefer A.K.s...," Louis catches as Harry finally finds the right key, sliding it into the lock and clicking it opened. Three quick beeps come from somewhere nearby, and Harry presses his thumb to some sort of identifier, and the door slides opened. 

"Why is that?," Calum asks, pausing as Harry closes the door, Louis attached to his lower arm. 

"Lighter, easier to use?," Harry shrugs, not quite sure why is why why is. Calum nods in understanding, taking up his place on the other side of Louis, putting the small man in the middle, knowing that's what Harry'll want once they're in the Cafeteria with all of the gang members, not just the injured, like Louis is use to. "Okay," Harry says, wrapping his arm around Louis' middle instead of just holding his hand. "Remember what I said?," he insist, tightening his grip, and Louis nods quickly, keeping a close stance to his soulie. 

Louis feels much better now that Harry's attention is back on him. As they walk through the halls, Louis notices more and more people, all dressed similarly. They are broke off in groups, some dressed in black and some dressed in silver. Louis looks up at Harry, who is looking around the room. "Is there a dress code here?," Louis asks, nudging Harry's arm. 

The taller lad looks down at him briefly and shrugs. "Not a verbally told one. It's more... peer pressure. My group tend to wear black, and Thelma's, as you can tell, wear silver. Poe and William's groups usually wear lighter colors, like pastels, which is odd if you ask me," Harry says nearly distractedly, then he shrugs his shoulder at Calum, directing them to the tall woman whom Harry recognizes as Thelma.

Louis presses even closer into Harry catching sight of the woman whom he can only accumulate bad memories from. Harry takes notice of his fright and pulls him in by his hair, putting his forehead on his chest as they stop, keeping his face turned towards him that way Thelma can't see his face. "Should I be offended?," she asks, and her voice pricks at the hairs on the back of Louis' neck. 

Louis can feel Harry's shoulders shrug, and he tries to get closer to him, but not hurt his ribs. "I don't really care how you feel about it, honestly," Harry says, and it doesn't sound rude or snippy, it sounds like he's speaking facts. Louis can hear Thelma's laughter and rolls his eyes.

"Fair enough," she says, shrugging her shoulders. "And, must I say, it's nice to see you again, Styles, it's been too long," she smirks, making Harry want to audibly scoff. "You grew up nicely, you look a good bit like your father. But, my, oh, my do you look like your mother," she adds, reaching forward to pull one of Harry's curls.

Stepping away quickly to avoid her touch, he leaves Louis standing there, and his eyes widen. He tenses when he feels Thelma's arms wrap over his shoulders, and what he can remember of their meeting three months ago, she wan't this hands on. "Let him go. Give him back," Harry says, reaching for Louis' arm, but Thelma takes a step back, forcing Louis backwards with her.

She pinches his left cheeks and he fights a scowl, and very nearly backs away from her. "But look how cute he is!," she laughs loudly, pulling at Louis' hair. "He's very tiny... very petite, too. But he has that pudge, I'm assuming he's the carrier then?," she assumes and Harry's jaw clinches. He doesn't want her talking about Louis like that. "What's his scale? How many little ones are you planning on having?," she asks, and Harry grabs Louis quickly, pulling the terrified boy to him, wrapping him up in his arms.

"Lots," Harry hisses and Thelma's eyebrows shoot up.

She hums and nods. "That's odd, not very usual for you, hm? Didn't your family only have three children... oh, um, sorry," she winces, and Louis can't quite tell if she's being serious or not. But he knows for sure that Harry has tensed, his form rock hard tight.

Harry makes to turn them around, and Calum steps forward with them. "I'm going to give Lou a tour of the Den, if you don't need me," he says harshly, and Thelma nods slowly, she looks calculative, and neither Louis or Harry like that. "Let's go," he whispers, pulling Louis along, Calum stays behind, knowing that Harry doesn't want his 'Louis Time' to be disturbed.

Louis nods acutely and follows him back through the hallways where they had come in, and he tries to avoid knocking into people, black clothes and silver clothes alike. "How much of the Den is safe to go into?," he asks, not wanting to run into any of the enemy members. Harry pulls him under his arm and cuddles him close, probably enjoy the warmth he insists that Louis always radiates.

Harry uses his free arm to point out unto the horizon. "We've gotten about one fourth secured, and that's about six and a half miles" Louis looks in front of him, taking in what is the Den. 

From what he can see, the Den is mostly building, flats maybe. It's what Harry described. It's like a normal city street, only there's slightly more graffiti, and a bunch less people bustling around. "I forgot to ask... when Liam said, a while ago, that you could get the people out of here, what were they, uh, what was happening to them?," he asks, gnawing on his lower lip as Harry leads them to a park, setting on a swing, pulling Louis onto his lap.

Harry pales at the memory of all the people they got out of here. He was present when they finally broke down all of the doors for the building where the citizens were held. Cut up, like he was when he was young, burned in patterns that looked almost artistic, some suffocated, some half drowned, some starved, some had been locked in freezers for hours. All for information that they didn't have.

Harry purses his lips then leans forward to kiss Louis' scalp. "They were just... locked in their homes," he says, closing his eyes tight, bringing Louis closer by his waist.


	19. tentative

story: seven minutes

part: nineteen // tentative

____

Harry sighs and tucks his chin into Louis' shoulder, he can feel the chill that sticks to the leather jacket wrapped around Louis through his shirt. He can feel his pager buzzing against his thigh, and chooses to ignore it for just a little while. 

Louis can smell the grass, and subtly smell flowers. "Is this hard?," Louis asks, tilting a little bit more into Harry. He tilts his head in confusion.

He nuzzles into Louis' hair, and hums. "Is what hard, sweets?," he asks, using the nickname he's picked up along the way, he knows Louis likes to be called soft terms of endearment. 

Louis shrugs slightly and sighs. "Keeping up with everything, with everyone, I guess. Isn't it stressful? I don't think that I could take it, all of the the pressure," he whispers, sitting in the swing in the chilly April air with the wind blowing around them feels oddly intimate.

Harry snorts a laugh and Louis tilts his head to look behind him. "Way to not psych me out, babes," he says and Louis slaps at his arm, making sure not to touch his chest, just in case it's still hurting.

"You know what I mean...," Louis huffs, and Harry nods in understanding, clasping his hands together, his arms still wrapped around Louis' waist. He tries to shift his body when his pager vibrates again, he doesn't want Louis to know that he's being called in, he want just a little while longer with him.

"I'll definitely get grey hairs quicker then most, if that's what you're asking," Harry says, and that causes Louis to chuckle at him, shrugging his shoulders.

"I always did like an older man. You're, what did you say, twenty-three?," he asks, and Harry nods, his chin still on his shoulder. "That's not as bad as it could be, the age gap," he says and Harry blows a breath on his neck to tickle him, and he protests with a squirm. "Harry!," he shrieks as Harry's fingers poke at his ticklish ribs, attacking him. "Uncle! Uncle!," he laughs between breaths, and Harry settles down, laughing in Louis' ear. And then Louis feels the vibration of the pager, and he knows what it means, he's gotten used to it over the past few months. "You really have to go, now?," he pouts and Harry groans, his shoulders sagging.

+

Louis sighs, pulling at his face with his hands. Jesy is, of course, fondling over every cut or bruise he has. "Stop," he whines at she pokes at his jawbone with a worried expression. She leans back and looks at him with a scowl. 

"Well, if you weren't so banged up...," she huffs, looking down at his arm in surprise, her breath hitches. "Louis! Look at your arm!," she hisses, referring to the scar that has overtaken his forearm. "It's...," she peters off, hesitantly touching it, keeping her fingertips light, like she's afraid to hurt him. 

"It's beautiful," Louis finishes for her. Because, well, it is. It looks like a light pink streak of lightning is going through his arm, it almost looks like a tree. "It was pretty bad to begin with, they thought we'd have to amputate - hold on, there. You can't nag at me! You've lost your leg! What an A-class friend I am, forgetting!," he huffs, throwing his arms into the air.

Jesy sighs and puts her face in her hands, her hair falling around her waist. "Louis! Listen to me. I want you to be honest with me, okay? Do you feel safe with Harry? Do you trust him? He's strong. He's powerful," she says, emphasizing each word thoroughly, as if Louis wasn't paying attention. 

He clinches his hands into fist and nearly growls. "Yeah? So am I," he says, and the wind starts circulating around the room for emphasis. Jesy looks around in surprise, both of their hairs flying around, flowers and picture frames flying off flat surfaces and onto the floor. She blinks several times and looks up at him with her mouth open. He huffs in frustration and forces himself to calm down, stopping the wind. "Jesy," he whispers, keeping his hands clenched. "I'm not the person I was three months ago, okay? I've seen blood, I've had blood on my hands, on my whole body. I'm not an innocent little boy anymore. Please, treat me how I deserve to be treated. More like an adult," he says, and her face falls a little. 

She reaches for him and holds his face in her hands, which are rough and calloused, much different from how Louis remembers them to have been. "Louis, Louis - Lou, you're seventeen years old, you aren't suppose to be an adult yet," she whispers, and Louis scowls. 

He angrily sucks in his bottom lip and digs his fingernails into his leg. "You know what, Jes, if you don't trust him, then when he comes back to collect me, you can speak with him. Get to know him, I don't care. Just... get over whatever it is that you have against him. You think you know about him, but you only know him from the leader perspective that is given to you. You know how powerful he is, but you don't know how gentle he is, too. You know him as the leader of your gang, but I know him as a lover, as my soulmate," he hisses, and Jesy licks her chapped lips, nodding slowly. 

But then her eyes widen, and Louis doesn't particularly like the gleam in them. "Have you two... have you - "

"Jessica!," Louis squawks, standing up. He doesn't know how she changed the subject so quickly, but this new subject is making him uncomfortable, and they haven't even started talking on it. "You can't just - No! You can't just ask that!," he hisses, and her eyes widen and she shrugs. 

"Have you?," she presses, and Louis blushes hotly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Christ," she mutters, shaking her head. 

+

Harry sits tense as the meeting continues to unfold. Thelma is standing at the front of the audience of spectators, Harry, Calum, Michael, and four of her people, her hands splayed over the white board, gesturing wildly, using one of her hands to make marks on the amateurishly drawn picture of the Den with a black Expo marker. 

The drawing is done street by street, and Thelma has marked it up with her planned route of attack. " - And once the wateriers and windiers have flushed them up towards the top of the mountains, the earthiers are going to make a pit at about... right here, in front of flat complexes six and seven," she says, using her dry erase marker to draw a circle to symbolize the dent she wants the earthiers to create. "And then, once they're trapped, we'll let the fireiers take care of them," she says, smug at her plan, dramatically capping the marker. Harry grits his teeth and sighs under his breath, which, of course, has every eye landed on him. Thelma raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms over her chest, looking pointedly at Harry. "Is there a problem, Styles?," she says snippily, and Harry looks over at Calum and Michael, who both look equally as disgusted. And beside Michael sits Thelma's second in command, Harry recognizes her as Perrie Edwards, and even she looks severely disgruntled.

With that charging his mind, Harry nods. "Yeah, actually," he says, keeeping his voice neutral, keeping his pokerface on, just in case Thelma has something up her sleeve. With a small nod to her head, Thelma squints her eyes as him and purses her lips.

"Well, Mr. Styles, please tell us the kinks you happen to feel you see?," she hums, moving her hands to her hips, her eyes (and everyone else's) expecting him to say something. Harry sighs and looks back over at Calum, Michael, and Perrie, who are all discussing something with hushed, quick spoken words.

"Well...," Harry says, gesturing to the white board. "It's a great plan and all... except for the fact that my people are merged in with their's. They would get hurt as well, and our forces would be greatly devastated. And just from a human stand-point, I'm not going to sacrifice them, they're innocent. And, if you need a reason that applies more to you; how do you think the law would react to a flood of fire and water and mud going through half of London? We barely get by them as it is, do you think that'll just go unnoticed?," he says, locking his jaw as the few people in the room start to murmur, considering Harry's words.

Thelma huffs quietly and starts to ring her hands together. She clenches her fists then, and Harry figures he's won as she leans over to whisper something to one of the buff men surrounding her. He nods his head, and makes a silent exit, two other men walking out after him. "Okay," Thelma says, looking back at Harry, her game face restored. "So, what do you think we should do?," she asks, and Harry's demeanor droops. "You don't have a better plan?," she asks, tilting her head to the side. 

Harry squints his eyes at her, and if she's intimidated, she doesn't show it. "Well, any idea is better than that one, if I'm being honest," he says, straining to keep the bitterness out of his tone. "I would imagine that with the five of us, we'd be able to come up with a better plan," he adds.

Thelma smacks the Expo marker down on the table and grits her teeth down harshly. "Listen here, boy! I'm doing you a favor, picking your side! You think I couldn't just as easily have joined Poe and William's team, left you three to one? Hm? So, I'd appreciate if you lost that attitude and try to do as I say," she growls. 

Harry stands up swiftly, and the other three flinch as it hits the ground. "I'm going to collect Louis, I will discuss this with you another day," he says with his monotone leader voice, and Michael and Calum stand up to follow him, giving Perrie meaningful glances. Harry opens the door from the meeting room and slams it shut, forcing Calum to awkwardly open it again, him and Michael following Harry. Harry gives a quiet shout of frustration, and kicks over a water bucket in anger, making it slosh onto the ground, reminding him about Louis.

Calum walks towards his as he starts storming towards where he dropped Louis off earlier, at the Infirmary with Jesy, who was - luckily - one of the patients that got transferred from the hospital in Ireland. "Where are you going?," he calls after Harry, having to jog to keep up with Harry's long-legged strides, Michael right behind them.

Harry clinches his fists, enraged at being talked to like that, being talked to like he was when he was small. "I'm going to get Louis, I already said this," he spits, he knows that Louis' presence will calm him down. But for now, he's seething. "Michael, go get the car," he barks, and Michael hustles off immediately. "Calum, meet me at the gate, we're leaving as soon as we've gotten Louis," he says and Calum nods with a sigh, and follows after Michael.

Harry nearly stomps towards the Infirmary, and he just has to look at the guard in front of him to get access granted. Knowing exactly who's he's going after, the man stops him. "Un, s - sir, miss Nelson has been moved to room three forty-six, Mister Tomlinson is in there with her" he says quickly, trying to keep his tone respectful. Harry nods and repeats the number in a mantra in his mind, as to not forget.

He rings for the lift with his card, which lets the machine know that he's a top priority, and picks at his fingers while he waits. The wait is only about ten seconds, because regardless of who called first, or how close to somebody else it was, he is the priority. Being the boss does have its perks.

Once the lift arrives, the three people in it, all wearing black, nod at him politely, keeping their posture perfect. He nods at them back, and pressed the number 3, to get to the floor with rooms 300 - 399. Since it's only two floors up, the lift opens after only about ten seconds, and Harry exits without looking backwards. 

He watches to doors as he walks by them, and doesn't start counting until he's closer to the door. 

339... 

341...

343...

345...

Harry looks at the next door, which is 347, and turns around, the doors are categorized by even and off numbers, apparently. He smiles despite himself once he's gotten to the door where Louis is, though he can't see him, he can hear him. " - Now why would we ever name one of our children after you?," he says through a muffled door, and Harry's eyes widen.

Harry can hear Jesy's laughter through the door and his eyebrows shoot up. He takes a few moments to straighten up and compose himself, tensing and un-tensing his shoulders as he breathes in and out, then he knocks on the door. "Lou?," he says, knocking one more time. He smiles subtly as he can hear someone tumbling and knocking things over, and his breath is knocked out of him in a gush, he didn't even see the door open and Louis is attached to him like a tick. "Hey, love, what's up?," he whispers and Louis peers up at him. 

"They moved Jesy into this room, I know you wanted me to stay put, but I figured it'd be best if I followed her?," he asks, looking over at Jesy, who is still slightly chuckling. Harry nods with a smile and kisses Louis' forehead. "Have you seen her leg?," he whispers, and Harry slowly nods his head. He saw her when they first got into the hospital, right after the explosion.


	20. terror

story: seven minutes

part: twenty // terror

_____

Louis sighs faintly as his fingers continue to move around the bumps and ridges that make up Harry's chest. 

From his years of life, Harry's body is nearly a canvas for scars. Some of them small nicks, maybe from the explosion, and some large, like the long surgical line from where they had to remove the bullet and heal his rib. And among the scars, are what are obviously cuts, and those are the ones that Harry tenses under as Louis touches them. The cuts from the man. 

It doesn't take much for Louis to soothe him, though. All he generally has to do is whisper about how it's him, it's not the man, it's nobody else, it's him, and Harry will relax, bringing him in close, burying his nose in his hair. 

And here they are again, in their room, in their bed, arms clasped. Louis blinks lazily as his finger slides over the incision mark, right under his left pec. "You're still afraid to touch?," Harry says, his voice rough from the nap they are slowly coming out of. Louis shrugs a little, and moves his fingers up to Harry's neck instead, circling the little curls at the nape of it with his fingers. "It doesn't hurt that much, anymore," Harry whispers, basically preening into Louis' touch. 

Louis pulls away a little to look at him. "So, you'd be okay with grabbing my arm? You'd feel comfortable grabbing it? It is healed," he says and Harry's face glazes over. "No," Louis says quickly, and Harry blinks. "No, don't blame yourself for it anymore, it's okay," he quickly adds, and Harry sighs, looking down in shame.

"'S not okay... I hurt you. Nearly had to... I'm really sorry, I know I've said it, but I'm really sorry. And I've been meaning to take those lessons - to practice -, but there just hasn't been any opportunities," Harry whispers, and Louis nods in understanding.

Neither of them say anything after that for a while, and Louis' train of thought starts to go backwards, thinking of his past life. That's what it is, really, there's nothing similar from how he lived, and how he's living. It's quiet, soft afternoons like this that Louis starts to really miss... everyone, everything. 

He misses Niall so, so, so, so much. What he wouldn't give to hear his laugh, to share a pint with him, listen to some of his famously recounted bouts of Irish folklore. Also, he really misses Zayn. They befriended each other decades ago, saw each other everyday, sick or sad, and it's a bit bitter to the taste to not see him at all, cold turkey. And he really, really misses his family. His mum's hugs, her skin always felt sort of cold, really soft. He misses the early mornings, to go to school, driving his little sisters. He even misses his mum's nearly emotionless brother, Dan, who helped raise him and his siblings. 

Louis doesn't realize he's sniffling, tears on the verge of spilling until Harry gives his shoulder a soft shake, using on of his fingers to make him look at him. "I'm fine," he gives a wet chuckle, cradling himself further into Harry's torso. With their legs twined, Louis' toes reach his ankles. "Just being nostalgic," he adds, and Harry closes his eyes with a sigh. 

"It's not called nostalgia to miss your family," he whispers, and Louis shrugs his shoulders, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. "And I hope you're not offended... or mad... but I've been having a few of my people keeping tabs on them... just to make sure they're o -"

Louis sits up quickly, and his body looks pale, milky in the slight amount of sunshine that is coming through the blinds. "Are they okay? How are they? What's going on with them?," he hammers Harry, who raises up on his elbows. 

"Well...," Harry says, thinking back to all the things the people reported to him. "Niall and... I think his name is Josh? Yes, they're expecting. A little boy. Zayn met his soulie about three weeks ago, they're settling down nicely. It's a girl named Dove, it's easy to tell how smitten they are. And your mum... she adopted two more babies, twins. A little boy and a little girl," he says it all slowly, expecting Louis to interrupt, but he only nods for Harry to continue. "You okay?," he whispers, pulling Louis towards him by his wrist.

Louis nods and lets himself collapse onto Harry's chest, burying his face in his neck. "Do you know what the babies are named?," he asks, having mixed emotions over the fact that he might be that replaceable. Harry shakes his head, and makes a noise of denial, and Louis sighs, his chilly breath fanning over the expanse of Harry's bare shoulders. "Do you think we could go to the store later? I feel sort of stir crazy, and I was kind of wanting to get a sketch pad, or something other," he says, trying to occupy his mind. 

Harry doesn't miss a beat, he nods quickly and cradles Louis' face to his neck. "We could go right now, if you'd like?," he says and Louis smiles at him, kissing behind his ear softly. "We should probably puts some pants on... probably," Harry smirks, and Louis slaps his arm.

"I think that the people around us might appreciate if we did," Louis scoffs, and Harry whistles as he shakes his bum, disappearing into the walk in closet. Harry chuckles and looks on after him, a fond twinkle in his eyes. He takes his soft time raising up off the bed, following Louis into the closet. Louis looks up at him as he debates shirts. "Which do you think would work better with the pants I have on?," he asks, showing Harry the two shirts.

Harry, wordlessly, reaches beside his head and grabs a shirt, his Ramones shirt, and pushes it over Louis' head. Once his face appears, he's scowling. "That's a good look," Harry laughs quietly, kissing Louis' nose.

"Yeah, thanks," Louis rolls his eyes,, hanging the shirts up with difficulty before pushing his arms through the holes where they go. "This thing is so long," he whines as the shirt swallows his figure, it comes to his mid thigh. Harry just gives him a smirk, stepping his first leg into his pants.

+

"No!," Harry bellows, making Louis jolt in surprise, a long line if ink smearing his drawling from where he flinched. He forgot how bad of an artist he is. Shutting the book and closing the pen in with it, Louis tucks into himself, keeping the book close to his chest. "You've what? Are you mental? Oh my, God! I brought Louis here, you - I - what - God!," Harry roars, suddenly grabbing Louis by the arm, pressing him to his chest so tight that neither of them can really breathe. 

"Calm down," Thelma rolls her eyes, she can't see the problem here. "They've agreed to keep the peace - "

"What peace?," Harry screams, literally about to burst a vein. He can feel the cold sweat collecting. "You know inviting them here is a death wish for everyone in the proximity! We just got this little bit of the Den back, and you want to invite the people who took it to talk? Is there going to be teas and biscuits? Are we going to but on our happy faces?," he says sarcastically. 

"Styles, we can't keep this going. We need to have a civilized conversation with them, we need this war to be over before it becomes a global problem," she says cooly, as if she hasn't just invited their enemies into their home. "You said any plan would be better? Here's the other plan," she shrugs and Harry gives a nearly animalistic growl. 

"And you didn't even think to go through with me?," he hisses, clutching Louis to him by his back and by his neck. 

Thelma rolls her eyes at that. "I'm just as important as you, kid, I'm the leader of - "

"The second to smallest gang out of the four of us! And you're really overstepping your limits here, woman. We may not be able to take Poe and Williams alone, but we could crush you with over half of our resources gone. We are more than capable of ruining you, so the next time you think of double crossing me. Don't. I might not be an old woman like you, or a creepy old man like Williams and Poe, but I'm a hell of a lot stronger, and I have plenty of experience, so don't imagine that you can get one over on me it's not going to happen," he growls, and Thelma's eyes widen. 

"Is that all you think of me, Harry? A creepy old man?," says a familiar voice behind Harry, and Louis whimpers from fear and pain as Harry holds him even closer. "Hear that Poe?," says Williams, and Harry's jaw locks. Thelma stands up straighter as the two men step in, flanked by three big men apiece. "Look at you, Des' son. Look at how big you've gotten," he continues, and Harry takes about ten steps away from him as he approaches, making sure to not let go of Louis.

"Do not come any closer," Harry grits through his teeth, and Poe booms with loud laughter, which chills both Harry and Louis to the bones. Harry has only ever seen both men about five times separately, and form what he can tell, Williams looks much better fed, albeit his previously salt and pepper hair is mainly salt now. "What is going on?," Harry hisses, he can feel Louis shaking.

"Oh!," says Poe, as if just noticing Louis standing there. "Is that who I think it is?," he all but coos, and Louis tenses as he can feel that the attention is on him. He feels Harry quickly pull him behind his back, and he holds onto his shirt tightly, glad that he shorter than Harry, so they can't see him over his shoulders. "c'mon, now, I just wanna see him... I hear he is very... pretty. And also, very fertile," he smirks, and Harry would pounce on him if he wasn't standing in front of Louis, keeping him from their hungry stares.

"Gentlemen," Thelma interrupts as Harry and Poe start a staring match, Harry bubbling with rage, Poe looking quite coy. "We agreed to keep this meeti - ," she shrieks from surprise as part of the marble floor flies up and strikes her between the eyes so quickly, nobody has time to cover their faces. Her blood platers across Harry and Louis' backs and hair and onto Poe and William's clothing and faces as she collapses to the ground, the piece of marble still wedged in her skull.

Poe lowers his arm and puts his hand into his shirt pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, delicately wiping away the spots of blood, looking most indifferent. "Okay, now that that's taken care of... how about the men have a chat?"


	21. translucent

story: seven minutes

part: twenty-one // translucent

____

Louis just stares at Thelma's face, her eyes are wide open, even though she is dead. He never much liked her ─ she was very harsh and thoughtlessly spoken ─ but he never wanted to see her, or just about anyone else, get killed like that. She must have endured so much as a young adult to turn as angry and bitter as she was. He pities her, he truly does. She didn't deserve that.

And, no matter how many he seems to see, corpses still terrify him. And he doesn't know what he's more scared of, except, perhaps, the two men in front of him and his soulie, flanked by men three times as big as Harry.

He can feel Harry's shaking, and that doesn't make him feel any better. "No, I don't think that's a good idea," Harry says, trying to get Louis farther away from both men, and what was previously Thelma's body, where her blood is making a steady stream towards their shoes. 

Poe tsks, and leisurely takes a seat at the meeting table, his chair squealing on the ground, causing Louis to visibly wince, Harry to tense his shoulders. "Harry...," he says, picking up what was Thelma's water bottle, taking a sip, "Harry, Harry. While the woman did have a few... ha... fatal flaws... she was right about our need for negotiation. A compromise, perhaps?," he says, Williams joining him at the table, not taking a seat. "Do you not agree?," he asks, tilting his head to the side innocently, as if he hadn't just killed a woman in cold blood. 

Harry clenches his fists to the point of pain. "What do you have in mind?," he asks, trying to calmly breathe out of his nose. He regrets speaking automatically as an ugly smile crawls onto both men's faces. 

William pulls his sleek, black suitcase from beside their feet, and Louis flinches as it suddenly smacks down on the table. "We hoped you would say that," he says as Harry reaches behind himself, trying to soothe Louis, but still appear like he's stern, unwavering. "We'll leave these papers here for you to sigh, but first... let's go for a walk," he says, and Louis tightens his arms on Harry's shirt.

"No," Harry says, to Louis' relief, but then he says, "I'm not going with Louis coming" And Louis' jaw tightens. He isn't just going to hide and act like he's invalid while Harry does the dangerous things. 

So, mustering up his courage, Louis stands beside Harry, entangling their fingers with a tight grip, ignoring the look Harry gives him. "I'm not letting you go alone," he whispers, trying to keep his voice level. Harry's eyes widen, and he grabs Louis by the jaw, forcing their faces close together, a look of anger on his face. 

"You are not coming," he hisses, and Louis shakes out of his grip, even though their hands remain clasped. "What are you doing?," Harry spits, and Louis almost flinches ─ but he doesn't. He just presses his glasses further up his nose and scowls insistently at Harry. "This isn't one of those times that I cave," Harry growls, and Louis' fists tighten as he becomes desperate. 

"I'm not a child, you can not tell me what I can and can not do," he bites, and they narrow their eyes as each other. "I'm not going to let you go with them alone ─ they just killed Thelma without blinking an eye," he says harshly, and Harry's jaw locks angrily. You can nearly see the fire in his eyes. 

"Oh, you flatter me, boy," says Poe, and just the sound of his voice is enough to send an uncomfortable shiver down Louis' spine. He can only imagine how Harry feels, after everything that has happened to him, caused by Poe. "But, it doesn't bother me whether or not you come. I might actually enjoy looking back at your pretty little bod ─ "

Harry wraps his arm around Louis protect and possessively, startling the smaller boy by how tight he is actually holding him. "Don't ogle him," he snaps, temporarily forgetting his fear over the men in front of them. 

They both wait for them to react, but unlike Thelma, their personalities seem much more mild. "I don't think that it's illegal for me to appreciate what's in front of me... and, might I say, wow," he smirks, looking Louis up and down hungrily. Harry's blood boils, and he tries to push Louis behind him again, only half way succeeding.

"It's not illegal, but it's against the laws of nature! Don;t you have a soulie that you can molest, leave mine alon ─ "

"Don't bring her into this," Poe snaps, and even Williams seems surprised by his outburst. Louis doesn't know either man very well, but he can assume that they're both soft spoken blokes. He doesn't know how on Earth they managed to get so much done, so may people killed. "Don't... Let's just go for that walk, eh?," he says calmly, even though his face is still red, his forehead has a bulging evin running over it.

Harry bristles even more and shakes his head. "No, I'm not letting Louis go," he says, and Poe's eyes narrow.

He takes another long sip of the room temperature water, wiping his mouth with the blood covered one he used not five minutes ago. "Listen here, Styles. We were invited hear to talk about our predicaments, I would find it very wise on our end to comply. I wouldn't imagine you to come to an end quite like Miss Thelma here, I just couldn't see her roll in all of this being any more helpful," he says, then it hits both Louis and Harry.

They have just had their forces split nearly in half. "We'll walk to the courtyard. No farther. And you are not to come within ten meters of either of us. And you are going to leave your guards here," Harry states, and Louis tenses his shoulders. It feels like he's getting ready for war.

+

Louis scowls at Harry as he walks him into Jesy's room by his arm, the grip iron tight. "Harry," he growls, and he can see Jesy raise up from his peripheral vision. "Harry," he snaps, and Harry doesn't look at him. He lets go of his arm and Louis loses it, he brings his hand back and slaps Harry right across the face. He doesn't regret it either, the numb thump on the palm of his hand matches the enormous thumping in his skull and his ribcage. 

He can hear Jesy's gasp from across the room, and knows that he might've messed up, but his adrenaline is still thumping through his blood stream. Harry looks up at him through his long, messy hair, his nose trickling a little bit of blood, which he lets drip. "Stay here," he snaps, and Louis goes to object and Harry points as his shoes, a bolt of hot, blue lightning hitting his shoes.

He yelps as they melt to puddles, and he kicks them off as they burn his feet. He goes to open the door, only to be shocked by little bolt of lightening that disappear after only a few moments. "Goddammit!," he screams, kicking the door. He then winces and quickly hobbles to the window, watching Harry and the two evil men walking away, Harry's fingers still circulating electricity. His bottom lip wobbles and he collapses to the ground, sobbing before he can stop himself. "Harry," he whispers, clutching his arms to his chest.

"Lou," Jesy says, trying to get Louis' attention. "Louis, c'mon, s'mere," she says to him softly, and he stands up looking drunk, swaying and tripping over his feet. He collapses into her arms automatically, his legs and heart giving out. "What just happened?," she asks, running her fingers through his hair, which could use a trim. And a wash. As he starts to hiccup, she pulls her blanket out from under them, covering tehm both up. "C'mon, don't make yourself sick. Do you need a bucket?," she asks, and he shakes his head.

"I w ─ want Harry!," he cries. He wants to be out there, fighting with him if need be. He knows how afraid Harry is of them, and all he wants to do is be there, if just for comfort. "He tricked me into here! He's going t ─ to the courtyard to talk to Poe and Williams!," he cries, and he can feel Jesy tense at the sound of both of their names. "I just want to be with him," he whispers, his sobs and lack of sleep making his feel fatigued. 

"How about you just take a nap, eh? And Harry'll be back by the time you wake up. Okay, Lou?," she whispers, and if Louis wanted to fight the sleep, he couldn't any ways, his body and mind totally spent.

" ─ And that's baby one's nose, and that right there is baby four's hair. It's very thick already, looks like he or she will be getting the Styles' hair genes," the Doctor smiles widely at the first time parents who are attached at the arm, catching their tears on each other's shoulders. "How many print outs do you need, lovies?," she chuckles, freezing the sonogram to take a picture with the monitor. She watches as both boys turn to each other, rattling off people, Harry using his long fingers to keep count. Very cute.

"Liam," Harry starts. 

"Jesy...," louis adds. 

"Um... Calum and Mike?," Harry says, struggling to come up with any. 

"Maybe we could... anonymously mail one to my family? They'd know who it's from," Louis says, reading off harry's fingers, looking at him hopefully, and Harry agrees, not wanting to kill the vibe. "Thank you!," he whispers loudly, kissing Harry's cheek. "Just five... how much are these apeice, precisely?" the Doctor just shakes her head, waving her hand in the air in dismissal. 

"This time's free for my favorite happy couple," she smiles, handing Harry the ultrasound wand and unfreezing the screen. Louis mouths a 'thank you' to her and she smiles as she leaves the room to go to the copier, leaving the two, very young boys, to theirselves. 

"We're having little babies," Harry smiles. Louis figures that if he wasn't constantly in this sense of masculinity, that he'd be squealing. But, he is burying his face into Louis' shoulder with more force than necessary ─ but he gets clumsy when he's happy and right now he's so, so, so happy. "Plural! As in more than one!," he adds and Louis squeals with him. That's not old news, they knew they were having quadruplets since nearly the beginning but the excitement and love is still raw and fresh. 

"I wonder what they are. Are you sure that we don't wanna know the genders, baby? We could start stocking up on little pink or blue booties... little beanies... little socks... little itty bitty nappies. we're having babies, Harry!," Louis squeaks and Harry leans back to admire him. Louis always looks like he's glowing ─ he's radiant if you were to ask Harry ─ but today is a good day when it comes to pregnant Louis, who sometimes feels really under the weather. 

Harry Styles has seen about all the possible Louis's. Happy Louis, sad Louis, angry Louis, jealous Louis (which is quite often now that he's pregnant and emotional), high school dork Louis, strong Louis, crying Louis, scared Louis, proposed Louis, sleepy Louis, huffy Louis, cuddly Louis (which is quite often), just... he loves all of the little Louis's that make Louis. And now he's got five more little Louis's on the way. He smiles broadly and presses his mouth on Louis' hair, sniffing in his familiar and characteristic cotton candy hair-wash. He's used it since Harry can remember, he couldn't tell you when he actually started using it. "It's a family tradition for it to be a surprise and you're family - Aw - Itty bitty hands and itty bitty feets and itty bitty fingers and toes," Harry adds, side tracked, the smile growing painful and relentless, stained on his face.

The rest of the appointment and the drive home only take about another hour, and it all feels like a blur. Then, here they are, handing out ultrasound copies, Louis keeping one to send to his family. Jesy squeals as they are seated for what's nearing the last 'giving of the ultrasound' as Louis dubbed it the second time the went. Everyone else, is at work, keeping the gang going, another giving of the ultrasound is scheduled for five-thirty at the Styles house for those who had to press their absence. Is that a little nose?," Jesy whines out in adoration , caressing her thumb over the silky fabric of the photograph. 

Louis nods proudly, thumbing at the expanse of his stomach with a hand that is covered by Harry's larger one. "Baby one's. The Doctor pointed out baby four's ─"

"Hair!," Jesy interrupts Harry, using the sonogram they gave her to indicate as to what she's referring. They all collectively looks down at their picture and sigh in delight. "I bet they're all girls," she says and Louis nods in happy agreement. Louis can ─ personally ─ use his daddy senses to figure that they're probably all five girls. That must be pretty accurate. 

"I say boys," says Harry, rubbing at Louis' tummy where somebody is kicking. harry laughs breathily. "I think it might be half and half, too, maybe... Three are boys and two girls? Or vise versa," he smiles and Louis squints his eyes playfully. Harry looks down fondly. 

"Do you know something I don't, Mr. Styles? That was very detailed...," he asks coyly, pressing a finger from his free hand to Harry's chest ─ it's an awkward angle considering he is pressed up against Harry's chest. Harry smirks down at him. 

"Can't say I do, Mr. Styles," he quips, and the name reminder sends Louis into a blissful silence just like it always does. He starts twisting his wedding band around as Jesy coos at him and he blushes, turning around and burying his face in Harry's chest, quite awkwardly due to the large bump that is the babies. "Jesy, how have you been doing?," Harry asks, stroking Louis' back with one hand, sipping out of his tea cup with the other. He sighs in bliss. He has his baby and their babies pressed right up to him, sharing warmth, he has his husband's freshly brewed tea in hand, one of his closest friends near, and everything is great financially. 

"They're fitting me for a prosthetic," she says, and Louis listens intently as she starts talking about that, Harry mostly paying attention to him, even though he was the one who asked her. After a few minutes her talk about her leg has turned into a light hearted argument with Louis about the fundamentals of the color yellow clashing with purple. 

Harry continues smiling though, utterly blissed out as Louis shyly tugs at the sleeve of his shirt. He looks down at the hood-eyed boy in front of him and smiles at him wider than he was before. He rises his eyebrows to ask what he's needing and Louis licks his bottom lip, chewing it like he's embarrassed to say it. "I... I don't wanna be a burden... but will you please get me a pickle? I would, but my feet are starting to hurt and I really need to sit down and I just sorta want a pickle, but I also kinda... want a cat. I think I want a nap, too, but I really want the little bugs out here," Louis rambles, smoothing his hand on his stomach. 

"Little bugs, huh? and I would be honored to get you and our little bugs a pickle. Just sit down and I'll be right back," Harry says, assisting the short boy into a chair, making sure he's situated before taking the four or five steps to the fridge ─ they're already in the kitchen. "Do we even have any ─ just kidding they're right here," Harry stammers, grabbing the pickle jar out from behind the mustard. He examines the jar and turns to address Louis. "Are pickle chips alright?," he asks the pregnant boy who nods with a smile, still rubbing his tummy. Harry quickly grabs a fork from the silverware drawer and a bowl from the cabinet, filling it up with green pickles. He puts the jar back in the fridge and shuts it with his foot. "Pickles for the princess," Harry giggles as Louis squawks and slaps at him. It only lasts a second of Harry backing away before Louis is making grabby motions for him with the hand not holding the pickle bowl. 

"You're not allowed to walk away from little pregnant men! Well... other little pregnant men. Not me. You better never walk away from me," he mutters, swiping Jesy's hand away with his fork as the fool tries to sneak one of his pickle slices away. Harry just kisses his ear and chuckles, shaking his head. Louis happily eats on his pickle, eating the green crust first, and then the middle. "I also need more hair and body wash. I ran out of the soap this morning. It sucks having more skin to clean," he pouts and Harry smiles at him, bumping their noses together fondly, nodding to let him know that they'll run by Tesco's or something.

Harry flops down on the mattress beside Louis that night, and Louis scowls at the raised shirt showing off Harry's flat stomach. How he misses his. "What is is, honey muffin?," Harry chuckles, his eyes hidden behind a heavy arm as he tries to wire down from the adrenaline of such a good day. Louis grumpily and forcefully yanks Harry's shirt down, covering his stomach and muttering something that sounds like, 'show-off...'. Harry rises up at that and looks at his glum husband. "What's wrong?," he asks seriously and Louis huffs dramatically.

He makes motions to his belly with his hands and groans. "I miss my flat... ter tummy. I'm never going to look like that again, I've already got stretch marks!," he cries, snuffling pathetically. Harry coos and scoops him up and onto his lap very easily. 

"You look very beautiful. And you're glowing. Pregnancy suits you," Harry complements and Louis blushes bashfully, twiddling his fingers on the cap of Harry's knee. He looks up at him husband curiously. 

"So you would want to have more babies with me?," he asks, causing Harry's eyes to widen. The older boy uses his arms to loop through Louis', curling his fingers over the hard flesh of the baby bump. 

"We've got five little ones who haven't even gotten here yet and you're thinking about more?," Harry laughs and Louis pouts, heaving his chest in a huff, crossing his arms in hidden embarrassment that Harry reads right through, "But yes, yes I would love to have more babies with my pumpkin" Louis scoffs but smiles again and covers Harry's hands with his own, snuggling backwards into him.

"Hey," Louis says, nudging Harry's arm after a while. "Hey, um, could we watch our wedding video, please?," he asks. Harry almost coos. Louis usually only pulls out the wedding video when he's feeling sad or very nostalgic, which is why Harry always keeps it under the bed, in a water proof box. He nods and Louis is up and crouching down before Harry can even offer to get up and do it. "It's in the box? Yes, here it is," Louis smiles widely in victory, taking the cd out of it's case, turning on the room's extravagant television and putting the disc in, crawling back over to Harry, cuddling deeply into his chest.

They watch with happy little smiles as the familiar events happen. It wasn't a huge event, it couldn't be, but they had the saying of their vows, giving each other their first kisses to each other as a married couple. Harry pie-ing Louis with their own wedding cake, Louis doing the same, kisses, lots of love and kisses. The film stops where it always does, Michael tripping over himself right in front of the camera, slightly drunk, and knocks the camera stand over rather ungracefully. He still blushes to this day, nearly two and a half years later.

"Hey, pst. Hey... I love you," Harry whispers as Louis starts dipping his head up and down dopey and sleepy. "And don't be mad, but you need to take your nighttime vitamins for the bugs," Harry adds, causing Louis to groan. He's already brushed his teeth, the chewies are gonna taste bad now. "Hey now, don't be like that," Harry chuckles, detangling their legs to get off the bed and retrieve his pills from the red medicine bag. He finds the bottle easily enough and deposits seven of the cherry flavored chewables, zipping the bottle back into the bag. "C'mon, Lou, wake up so we can get this over with," Harry says, chuckling when Louis lazily opens his mouth. He chews two at a time and get's them down without a word. 

"Hey, Harry," he says as Harry discards his pants, kicking them to the end of the bed, reaching over to turn off the lamp, leaving them in darkness. Harry hums to let him know that he heard him. Louis huffs as he tries to cuddle him with his huge stomach. "I hate you," he whispers, nuzzling his nose into Harry's neck sleepily, "You got me pregnant"

"Oh," Harry says, caressing Louis' forehead with his chin. Louis nods in agreement. 

"Hey, Harry," Louis says again, his breath slow on Harry's chest. Harry blinks at the darkness, feeling him press closer to his lanky form. He mutters a 'yeah?,' and he can feel Louis' smile on his collarbones. "I love you," he says cheekily, his words kinda slower than usual due to sleepiness.

"Oh?," Harry hums, kissing Louis' eyelids. Louis nods in agreement and breaths out happily. "I love you, too"

Louis wakes up with what feels like a stab to his stomach and chest. He feels down his chest, but there's no blood, and his body feels heavy as lead. It feels like he's on fire, burning from the inside out. He feels like he should feel amazing after such an incredible dream, but his watcher is right up to his face, and he nearly faints when he focuses on it. 

Bright green.

Seven More Minutes...


	22. escalate

story: seven minutes

part: twenty-two // escalate

______

Louis springs up, and falls out of the bed, landing on his bum with a thump. He looks around quickly, trying to assess his situation, and it hits him. He's in Jesy's room, locked in, and Harry has seven minutes to live. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay..., he rambles in his head, trying to get his thought process going. And fast. 

"Louis?," Jesy asks fretfully, using all of her arm strength to pull herself to the edge of the bed, blinking several times to get the sleep out of her eyes, looking down at a very pale, terrified looking Louis. "Lou?," she repeats, and he doesn't look up from his watcher, which alerts Jesy immediately.

Louis curls his fists together and tries to will himself to breathe normally, but his breath is still becoming labored, his chest is heaving unhealthily. "I have...," he chokes, and Jesy tries to bring him back onto the bed by his armpits, "I have to get to Harry, Jesy ─ I have to get to the courtyard! Harry has seven minutes left!" His face is red and tears are pouring down his cheeks without him noticing. 

Jesy swallows and breathes in deeply. She doesn't quite know what to do. Harry wouldn't want him to follow, obviously. He melted his shoes and put a electric lock on the door knob. "Louis, I think he'll be okay, he can take care of himself," she tries to soothe Louis down, but he only freaks out worse, pulling at his hair desperately. "Louis, stop that!," she scolds, and Louis nearly growls at her. 

"What do you not understand about the fact that I have to get to him?," he spits, and Jesy's jaw tenses. 

"I understand your need to get to him, but I also understand that he doesn't want you there. If he's in danger, what is it going to help if you throw yourself in danger, too?," she asks, trying desperately to make him understand how dangerous this is. He sighs in frustration, standing up suddenly. 

"Do you have any, um, like, duct-tape?," he asks, and she motions to the dresser beside the bed. "I can't focus without wanting to look at my watcher...," he explains, noisily rummaging through the drawer, shoving over nail clippers, bandages, medicines, and hair brush galore, surfacing the roll of silver all-purpose duct-tape. "H ─ Here... you do it, I don't want to look at it again," he says, shakily tearing a piece off, extending his wrist to her, with the tape. 

She has to hold him still as he continues to shake nervously, are fearfully. She tries not to look at the time herself, and pats the small strip of tape into the glass face of the watcher. "What are you planning on doing?," she asks, raising up in her bed, looking confused as Louis gets into position. "What are you doi ─ "

With one quick step forward and three bend fingers, Louis blows down the hardwood door, the blue lightning still circulating on the knob. Wordlessly, Louis jumps over the door and runs past people, ignoring how they all look alarmed. He doesn't give a real thought to the fact that these people are so weary to loud noises.

He doesn't make it far before he realizes that he has no idea where the courtyard is even at. He looks around quickly, terror and dread building in his throat so tight that he can barely breathe. He grabs the first arm he sees ( which is a badly scarred one, it looks like it's from a fire ), and looks at the person desperately. "Do you know where the courtyard is?," he asks quickly, he doesn't even notice how disfigured the girl's face is, ravaged by wild dogs it looks like, to add onto the fire marks. 

"Um," she stammers, obviously not used to people talking to her, especially so urgently. 

"Hurry, please, I need to be there right now!," he cries, actual tears running down his face. The girl nods at his first question, and raises a frail hand, pointing to the way he came from. 

Louis spins around and looks in the direction. "It's not far from here... just go straight, then it's your second left. The door will lead you outside, then all you have to do is follow the tile trail," she says quickly, and Louis gives her a quick hug. The first hug she has received in seven years. 

Tears streaming down his face, he rushes off. "Thank you!," he calls after himself, and the girl barely catches it, watching him tumble away clumsily.

And he's off. 

He rushes by people, hurrying down the corridor so fast that people don't even see him coming. He barrels through and anything in his path gets knocked over. Food trays, medicine, little elderly women. And nobody tries to stop him, nobody yells at him. Not the bitterly aged men, not the sultry old women. By now, everyone knows his face, everyone knows his name. Everyone knows who, and what he is. Harry Styles' soulie, and the heir to their gang. 

Louis doesn't care about any of them. Not right now, at least. Last time he looked at his watcher, it said 7 minutes, and that was at least three ago. He has to grab the wall to the door to keep from colliding with the pane of it, and he runs down the tile trail faster than what is deemed safe. 

His hair is blown behind his head, and his jumper is beating against his thighs. His mind in repeating the same word over and over again. Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry - and he feels like he's going to have a panic attack. Perfect. 

He runs down the path, and all he can see are trees and a koi pond, which he would normally admire. Under different circumstances. Instead, he keeps on running. 

He can hear the screams before he can see the people. 

And when he can see the people, he wants to shield his eyes. There are people laying on the ground. Screaming, crying, and some of them look to be dead. He doesn't know what's happened, how all of these people got tangled into what was suppose to be a calm meeting between three people. "Louis?," shouts a voice, and he looks around in confusion until he finds the owner of it, a young girl with her foot sizzling from fire. 

That reminds him that he's barefoot. 

He kneels down to her, and she clutches his arm. "Um... h - hello?," he stammers, itching to find Harry again. 

"Harry! Harry needs your help! H - Hurry, he and a bunch of the others are by the pond!," she coughs, and Louis recognizes her as Perrie Edwards, Thelma's second in command, and he nods, running further, ignoring how his feet are reacting to the broken earth that stabs his feet, the fire that is burning the grass, and the icicles that hurt worse than the earth. 

Running takes him to a place much worse than what he left. There's heads, arms, feet galore lying random around the ground. There is large fires burning trees and grass and everyone is fighting. Weapons are abandoned on the ground - obviously Harry's gang had to abandon their element-free ways in order to survive.

The further he runs, the more dangerous it seems to get. 

He narrowly stops in time before a fire ball whizzes past him. His glasses fall forward, onto the tip of his nose, and he gives a shaky, shuddering breath, taking off again. His face burns hot from the heat from the fire ball, but he ignores it and looks around. He stops probably more quickly as his eyes land on Harry. 

He's circled by just Poe and Williams, and he's on the ground, his face, arms... just everything that Louis can see is covered in blood. And Louis is moving again, fluidly, naturally, watching William's hands rise above his head. The ground gives an obscene sucking noise as a boulder the side of a small car comes up. As it comes closer to Harry, who may or may not be unconscious, and Louis stops. 

He lifts his arms and makes a decision. He closes his eyes and raises his hands. He's only ever done this a few times, and it was innocent. But now, he can feel the raw power pumping through his veins. 

He can hear William's blood curdling scream that silences the whole scene. Louis doesn't open his eyes as he boils William's alive, with his blood. He knows this has to be the most painful thing. He flattens his hand and freezes his blood, and the screaming stops with a gasp. With one quick moment, he extends his arms in different directions, his palm out, his fingers spread, and pieces of Williams hit the ground and the surrounding people, his blood spills into Harry, Louis, and Poe as the raised boulder falls. Right on top of Poe. It knocks him over and it lands on his lower body. 

Louis leaves him, he's immobile anyways. And maybe this is him getting Harry's revenge for him.

Harry. 

Louis turns around and stumbles to Harry, ignoring the gang members that have no idea what to do now that their leader have been killed in front of their eyes. Nobody moves as Louis falls to his side, grabbing him by the face. He runs his hands through his dirty, bloody hair and looks over his face. He isn't awake, and he looks so, so pale. Louis gasps and his eyes water, they trail over his soulie's body, looking at the holes in his skin, the bruises, the innocent look on his face. He looks asleep.

+

"He's going to wake up," Louis tells Liam as he comes in to check on them. He isn't taking care of him. He's actually dropped his medical degree and officially joined the gang. As Harry's right hand man. 

He nods his head and sits beside Louis in the gang's hospital's chairs. They are light grey and that seems fitting. 

Louis has said the same thing every time Liam has come in, and he figures he's done that with every person who's come in through the door. He doesn't have any conformation from any doctor, they all say that it's up to Harry now. Louis believes in Harry, and Liam is trying to. If Harry doesn't pull through, then Poe is the last remaining gang leader. But he's much worse off than Harry. The boulder stabbed him through the kidney, the spleen, his stomach, grazed his lungs, and his hips, legs, feet, and three ribs are shattered. He endured the pain of that until he passed out unconscious four hours later. That was nearly six weeks ago.

But, if Harry does make a recovery, then he will wake up to a new world. The other three gangs have merged together. Nobody wants to be left without the safety of a gang, and Harry will be the only place to go. 

"I know, mate, I know," Liam says gently, wrapping an arm over Louis' shoulder. 

The smaller man lets himself curl into Liam, he needs something solid. He isn't solids emotionally or even physically. He's lost so much weight over the past month and a half, his cheekbones are very prominent now, and his ribs and hipbones are protruding. The stress and sadness weighing down heavily. 

Liam stays with them for a long time, but mostly Louis. Liam can barely look at Harry. He has tubes up his nose and IVs and wires attached to his arms and neck. He looks terrible to Liam, all banged and bandaged up. 

But that's not how Louis feels. 

He doesn't see the nasty cuts or the grotesque bruises. He doesn't see the machine breathing oxygen into Harry. He sees his soulmate through it all. He sees how his skin has - arguably - started to gain color, his breath hitches every time Harry flutters his eyelashes or moves a finger. 

Liam leaves after about five hours, and he tries to convince Louis to go home, too. To an empty home, a large, empty home? No thanks. Liam also insists that Jade and Taylor will cater to his needs. Feed him, heal him, heck, they'd probably bathe him. 

But Louis, of course, refuses.

So Liam leaves, and Louis' eyes twinkle behind his glasses, hot tears pooling. He sits like that for a while, his hand intertwined with Harry's, occasionally rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb. He jumps a little and looks behind him as a knock taps at the door. 

The doctor, a young woman introduced as Doctor Feena steps in, smiling wider than Louis has ever seen. "Y - Yes?," he asks, his voice rough from disuse. She smiles and makes a hand movement for him to follow her. 

"You have visitors," she says, and Louis tightens his grip on Harry's hand. He doesn't want to leave him. 

"Why can't you just send them in? They'll have to come in here to see him anyways?," he says in confusion, and Doctor Feena just rolls her eyes. 

"Mr. Tomlinson. They're here for you," she says, coaxing Louis to follow her, hesitantly letting go of Harry's hand. "They're right outside the roo - "

"Baby!," a woman shrieks, completely interrupting the doctor. Not that anybody minds. Louis looks straight at her, and his mouth bobs, his whole throat drying and closing up. "Oh, baby!," she cries, and they stumble to each other, wrapping each other in the opposite's tight, emotional embrace. 

Louis allows himself to cry into his mum's neck. He can feel are rubbing his scalp, he can feel his whole family join in on the hug. He just stands and cries, he cries harder than he's allowed himself to yet. "Mummy," he sobs, trying to press closer into her. "Mummy, Mummy, Mummy...," he continues to cry, everyone around him doing the same. 

"I know, baby, I know," she whispers, kissing his hair covered forehead. 

+

"We got some call from this bloke, Liam? That's what he called himself. He briefly told us the circumstances, he told us that it's safe for us to see you. He said it was safe? I couldn't understand then, I still don't, really... but I think this helps better explain it," she gives a wet chuckle, referring to Harry, whose eyes are fluttering. It's nothing new. 

Louis sniffles and nods as his eldest sister Lottie comes over to them, wrapping the three of them up in a large quilt. "S - So. How are the babies?," Louis asks. He doesn't quite want to talk about Harry. 

Jay looks confused. "You know about the babies?," she asks, and Louis nods, but doesn't add anything or explain. "Yeah," Jay smiles a little, "Yeah, a little boy and a little girl. We named them Ernest and Doris. We saved them from a really bad home. Ernie is a windier. Dori is a waterier, just like you" Louis smiles at that. His mum never put any highlight to his water abilities before. "Have you gotten any farther with earth since we last saw you?," she asks, and Louis shakes his head. He hasn't tried. 

They stay in silence after that, all of Louis' sisters, above the age of a few months, pressed close. They barely budge when the doctor knocks on the door again. It's not Doctor Feena, it's the older doctor that does Harry's vitals and medicines while Doctor Feena tends to his wounds. 

"Okay," he says, bearing a syringe with light green liquid visible in it. He looks grave, and Louis really doesn't like that. That's why he's kept the tape over his watcher. "This is it, this is what should wake him up. This is the strongest medication that would revive him. It's this or nothing. If he doesn't respond to this, he isn't going to wake up"


	23. evident

story: seven minutes

part: twenty-three // evident

______

Louis is at home, at 3 am, when he gets the call. 

He's sobbing and he tries to stay silent; his family are all asleep in bedrooms throughout the house. But Louis is curled up in his and Harry's bed. It's much too big for one person. 

He clambers out of it and towards the closet, his legs wobbly and very unstable. It seems appropriate. His fingers shake as he reaches up to the almost too high up shelf, pulling on of Harry's softer jumpers down by the sleeve. He quickly shoves it over his bed-head, it settles long over his fists and drapes over his thighs. He shucks down his pajama pants and pulls out a pair of soft, classy looking pair of silk sweat pants. 

He brings them up to his hips one leg at a time and pads out of his room, his arms clutched to his chest. He walks through the room with a chill, he keeps the temperature down. He detaches one arm to open the door, keeping his hands over his fingers to not feel the cold. 

He continues to walk through the house, but not far. His mum is the room in front of their's the one that he was planning on occupying at first, the periwinkle one. He shuffles right up to the door and brings a hand up, knocking twice. 

It only takes Jay a few moments to get to the door. When she heard the knocks and looked at the clock beside her in confusion of the time, she sprung up right away. Louis stands small in front of her, all dressed and swimming in what she knows to be Harry's jumper. "Lou, baby, what are you doing? Wanna get in bed with muma?," she asks in confusion, but he shakes his head even though he really, really just wants to crawl into bed and cry with the comfort of his mum cuddled into him. 

"I'm going to the hospital... they just c - called me," he stutters, and her eyes widen, her hand comes up to cover her mouth. 

"Lou - "

"Can you, like, u - um, just take care of the house while I'm gone? I'll probably be back soon, but I need to go right now," he says quickly, quietly. 

Jay nods her head, but her mouth is popped open. "Lou, baby, I could go with - "

"No, no, no... I wanna go alone," he whispers, jumping forward to hug his mum. She grabs him up in her arms and squeezes tightly until he starts to loosen up, pulling away. "I'll call soon," he adds, leaving it at that.

He makes sure to be extra quiet passing by the room where the youngest twins are asleep. He got to hold both of them yesterday, and it nearly winded him. 

He has to remain quiet as he gets down the last of the staircase. Liam has taken up to sleeping on the couch, to ensure than he's there for him at anytime of the day. 

He tiptoes into the kitchen and scoops up the car keys, grabbing them from the bottom so they don't noisily clank together. He leaves the kitchen again then, and slips his shoes on by the front door. He's grateful that Harry put so much money into the the house, the door doesn't make a sound as he opens it. 

His body feels unnaturally cold as he walks through the gravel driveway and slips into what was Harry's car, the large Rover. He puts it into ignition, his hands shaking violently, and the keys clank together. The radio is on, he realizes as he puts it in reverse. It's on the last station they had it on, Liam must have just turned in on when he drove the car back here. 

Louis doesn't know the song, but it's too cheerful for his mood, for the moment, so he turns it back off. 

He backs up slowly, looking out the rearview window for a visual. He puts it in drive after he's far enough back and he looks at the house, he can see his mum watching him from the window. With a numb chest, Louis doesn't wave, he drives off in silence, keeping his grip on the steering wheel tight as can be. He doesn't feel it though. He doesn't feel much. 

He plays through his last moments with Harry, how angry he was at him, how he slapped him. 

His tears pool again and he doesn't even try to stop them. 

That's all that he's thought about. That, and the fact that he's killed a man. He doesn't know if that makes him a murderer or not, but it doesn't really effect him as much as it probably would've if it had've been somebody else that he killed. And Poe. The image of Poe lying there in agony is forever etched in Louis' mind. 

He wants to scream, to bang his hands on the steering wheel and just crash the car into the nearest bridge, but he won't, he can't. The hospital is only another five or six minutes away, and he'll just have to live. He needs to live, more now than ever. 

So he watches the trees fly by, the occasional car. Nobody is really out on the road at 3 in the morning, actually. 

He tries to even his breath as he sees the sign that directs people to the hospital. He gets off the corridor and gets into the turning lane, he doesn't even bother putting his blinker on. He parks in his usual visitor's spot, the hospital is still awake, even at this hour. Death never sleeps, so neither do they. 

Louis is sluggish pulling the key out of the ignition. He clambers out shakily, barely blinking, and his feet hit the ground. He barely pays attention to the things in front of him, he only narrowly misses bushes and car park bumps. He doesn't even realize that he's in the hospital until a nurse rushes to him, thinking he's hurt. "What's wrong, sir?," she asks briskly, and Louis dazedly turns his eyes to look at her. 

He blinks several, slow times before he says anything. "I need to see Doctor Feena, she called me to come here for Harry," he says, and everything clicks for the nurse, she knows who Harry is - he's her boss - and she knows who Louis is. And she's aware of what's going on. "Yes, yes, sir, follow me this way," she says, giving him what she hopes is a supportive smile. 

He follows her like a tike, a little, confused child. She leads him to her desk and hold up a finger to indicate for her to give her a moment. "Okay...," he whispers to himself mostly, not actually paying much attention as the nurse talks on the phone quickly. 

She puts the phone back to the machine and turns back to them, that smile restored. "Doctor Feena will be down here immediately, she is on her way," the nurse informs him, and he nods silently. True to word, the soft face of Doctor Feena appears out from the lift adjacent to the desk. She smiles at him softly and he nods his head, his eyes watering again. 

"Follow me?," she asks, and he nods, leaving the nurse without looking back at her. "How are you feeling?," she asks, curious to how he really is doing. He shrugs his shoulders and starts to gnaw at the corner of his bottom lip. "Okay...," she sighs as they climb into the already waiting lift. She jabs the number 7 button and the doors close only seconds later. 

Louis taps his foot on the ground of the lift, his arms have boned themselves around his waist again, very tightly. Neither of them speak as the lift lands softly on the floor, dinging quietly. Louis follows the doctor again, even though he'd know his way by heart. He blinks when he sees the doctor that does Harry's vitals. He has his clipboard at his hip, and he stands straight up, just like usual. 

When he sees Louis, he gives him a rare smile. Louis feels unsettled by it, nearly. He's the one to open the door for Louis, and the small man isn't quite sure that he wants to go in, he is internally fighting himself. That's what it feels like anyways, his insides are all twisted up.

He breaks through the resistance barrier in his mind and his foot lifts, he takes a step and it feels like it weight 800 pounds. The room is darker than he remembers it being last time, and his breath hitches when he sees what was previously his strong, terrifying soulie. 

He looks him over like it's his last time. He looks at his hair, how thin it is now, how hollow his cheeks are, how pale he is, how dull his eyes are looking around, how scratchy his voice is when he finally sees him. "Hi," he says, lifting his right hand with a wince. Louis breaks down then, full out collapsing onto his knees in the middle of the room. "L - Louis?," Harry stutters, trying to sit up. 

Louis barely stands up before he's running forward and collapsing into Harry, being mindful of his bruised and battered up body. Harry flops back down with a guttural sigh, and they wrap their arms together, Harry's jumper on Louis' body nearly suffocating them both, Louis' glasses are nearly falling off of his face, and he's sobbing loudly, his face red and splotchy, but he's still the most beautiful creature that Harry could imagine. "You scared the hell out of me," Louis whimpers, and Harry presses a hundred little, soft kisses on his forehead, and he nearly starts when Louis - literally - smashes their mouths together. 

"Oh," Harry chuckles then, even though his lungs are sort of a billion pounds heavier than comfortable. "Hey, it's okay, it's okay, I'm here, I'm awake," he whispers as Louis burrows his face into his neck, nosing into him desperately. 

"Your heart stopped," Louis hiccups, referring to that time they had to get electric panels to get him revived. "Your heart stopped! You were dead, you died! You died!," he forces out harshly, his throat closing in on him. Harry rubs his side softly, moving his hands up Louis' back, over the bumps of his spine. 

"It's working now, right? I'm okay, baby, you're okay, it's okay," he whispers, rubbing his hands up and down Louis' shaking shoulder-blades. He's still muttering 'you were dead, your heart stopped, it stopped,' so Harry pulls him even closer, only slightly wincing.

+

"I killed a man," Louis tells Harry as they lay in the same bed three hours later. Louis is feeding Harry some fruit gelatin, and they both freeze then. Harry heavily swallows then, and looks Louis over. "To save you, I killed a man...," he whispers, and Harry reaches up and cups his face, even though it pulls at his IV. "It was Williams," he says, looking down at the red bowl of gelatin, hitting it with the spoon. "I killed him and you made me deal with it alone," his voice catches, and he barely gets the last word out. 

Harry's eyes water at that. He removes his hand from Louis' face and put them in his lap, taking the bowl from him, placing it on the table beside his bed. He opens his arms for him, and he crawls over automatically. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," he whispers, clutching Louis so tightly, he can barely breathe. "I didn't mean to, you know I didn't," he adds, and Louis nods, and Harry aches that he's crying again. 

"Why didn't you just let me go with you? What happened?," Louis asks thickly, his mouth pressed to Harry's left shoulder. Harry swallows at that, and Louis can feel it against the side of his head. He leans back to look at him, and finds comfort from the fact that he is gaining color in his skin. 

Harry coughs quietly, and uses a hand to run through Louis' hair, lovingly. "You know why I couldn't let you go. I don't regret not letting you go, they would have killed you right there, just to start it off. And... everyone was just sort of there. When they saw them attack me, my gang jumped into it, and then their gang jumped into it. And Williams, he, well, he kept sinking me into the ground and crushing my bones, sort of? I was only half conscious," Harry says what he remembers. 

"It's all your gang now," Louis says quietly, looking at Harry with a new expression suddenly. Harry's eyes widen, and he looks Louis over. 

"What do you mean?," he whispers, his eyes looking all over Louis' face, studying him. 

"It's all yours. Poe is going to die, Williams is dead, and Thelma is dead. You're all that's left, and most of the other gangs have voluntarily merged with it," Louis whispers, and Harry pulls him to his mouth.


	24. ever-after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter! Xxx

story: seven minutes

part: twenty-four // ever-after

_____

"Can you shut up?," Louis groans, covering his ears with his hands as Jesy and Harry continue to bicker back and forth about baby names, baby supplies, genders, etcetera. He puts his small hand on his tummy and tries to soothe his tummy ache. His two month tummy is as big as a single fetus' four and a half month tummy. He's carrying septuplets. "And somebody... please... rub my feet," he gasps as his toes suddenly start to cramp. 

Harry jumps forward without missing a beat, his long, skilled fingers automatically relieving his poor soulie. "Are you okay?," he asks, leaning forward to bury his nose in his hair, leaning down more to bump their noses together, and then their lips. 

Louis hums at that, and wraps his arms loosely around Harry's shoulders, keeping him close. "I am now," he sighs, nuzzling his face into Harry's neck, giving the warm skin several light, airy kisses. "Hey... going back to what you two were talking about... I did like a few of those names you suggested," he says, running his fingers through Harry's long hairs. 

Harry falls backwards on the couch so that he is on his back with Louis on his stomach. "Yeah?," he says, he's smirking a bit, and Louis gives his arm a good pop. "Which ones, baby? I said quite a few...," he gives a quiet laugh, leaning forward to kiss Louis between the eyelids. Louis blushes at the loving act (and his hormones are already through the roof).

"Um, Amelia? And Ronan? Maybe Alyssa? For girls. And I like Chase and Walker, for boys," he says, twiddling Harry's hair without thinking about it. He also doesn't notice Jesy snapping a bunch of photos on her phone. 

Harry nods, a giant grin on his face. "We'll add those to the list. That's five names, we still have two left. If And eleven if we count middle names. And we don't even know the genders yet," he says, and Louis sighs happily. He can't even feel them moving yet - this is his first pregnancy, how will he even know how to react? - yet, he feels so attached to all of them. They are all his and Harry's babies.

"I already feel stretched to the max," he says offhandedly, running his hands over his tummy again. "Imagine me at nine months. I'll literally explode. Children and my intestines will be scattered round the floor!," he huffs and Harry rolls his eyes at him. 

"Don't talk like that," he hushes him, running his hands through his hair gently. "And in seven months, we'll have seven little ones to care for," he adds, crawling down to kiss at Louis' tummy, running his calloused skin over the smooth dome of skin. 

+

"What do you think of this color?," Louis asks in his 4th month, looking at the color sample in his hand a few more times before handing it to Harry. "It's very pretty, but it's still gender neutral," he points out, and Harry scrunches his nose up at him. "What?," he huffs, putting his hands on his hips, which is proving difficult. 

Harry cracks a smile at him after a moment, and wraps an arm around his waist. He holds up the color sample for Louis to see, and tilts in to different lighting. "Doesn't this slightly remind you of baby poo?," he asks, and Louis snatches the sample from him. 

He looks down at it with squinted eyes and smirks, looking up at Harry. "It's called tropical banana," he says, and Harry scowls at him, rolling his eyes. "Hey!," Louis shouts, pointing at Harry accusingly, "Don't roll your eyes at me!" He crosses his arms over his chest and Harry pulls him closer.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispers, kissing at Louis' shoulder. Louis makes a pretentious sound and Harry bites his shoulder a little hard. Louis bares his neck almost submissively and Harry gives it a quick, modest kiss, pulling away to the sound of Louis whining quietly. "C'mon, love, we need to get started," Harry whispers, and Louis looks down at the price tags. 

"I still don't understand the America currency method. Dollars. And their numeric system is to hell...," he mutters. Harry has noticed that pregnant Louis likes to insult America for some reason. Harry doesn't let his face crack, but he always finds that bit so funny. "Why did you decide to live here, again?," he asks, crossing his arms over his tummy. Harry snorts at that. 

"Because. At the time, America was the safer option. And, I think this is a lovely place to live... to raise our beautiful babies all big, safe and strong," Harry cleverly adds the last part, he's just about figured Louis out over the past two and a half years. Louis, of course, keens at that, and Harry smiles fondly as he looks at his tummy. Which is housing seven of their little ones. Harry wants to savor it while they are little, not too cramped up and hurting Louis. 

He's small, but his body is naturally made for this. "What do you think they are?," Louis asks softly, rubbing circles where his tummy has started to get firm. Harry gives the same dopey grin and shrug as usual. Louis looks at him quaintly, in the way he does from time to time. Harry is 25 now, and he looks so much younger than he did at 23. The stress from everything has been lifted from his shoulders, and seven tiny miracles have been placed in his hands. Harry considers it to be eight, because Louis is defiantly a miracle.

"I think they're seven little trouble-makers in the works," Harry says, and Louis scowls at him, but then they're both laughing and even the grump cashier behind the register could admit that they're too cute. 

And boy is Harry right. 

Two days later, the movement start. Louis is about nine or ten weeks along, and their neonatal doctor tells them that they are coming along perfectly. 

It's been happening a lot recently, the fluttering, but Louis just chalks it off as hunger or maybe gas. He chalks it off until he can't, and when he can't - he can't. 

They're, Harry, Louis, Jesy, Liam, and Michael, all sitting around the Styles' living-room when Louis' stomach flips, it feels like a goldfish is swimming in his tummy. He gasps audibly and clutches his stomach automatically, everyone turns away from the movie at hand, which Louis doesn't know the name of. 

Harry scrambles over to him automatically, grabbing his hands, and Jesy trips over herself to sit in front of him, her hands on his legs as he takes several deep breaths. "Are you okay? What happened? Do I need to get you to Doctor Jasm - "

"One of them - they just m-moved!," Louis interrupts Harry, looking at him like he just burnt his hand on the stove eye. Harry has seen that look many-a-times. His heart drops then, and he lifts Louis' shirt up, putting his large, warm hand over it. Louis nearly purrs at the sensation of Harry's warmth and the baby moving. "Can't you feel it?," he asks as Harry furrows his eyebrows, then shakes his head. 

"They aren't strong enough to be felt outside of all the layers of your skin, that'll take some time," Liam says, and Harry sighs, pulling Louis' shirt down, pulling him into him by his sides. "How do you feel?," he asks, and Louis swallows his heart, which has risen to his throat. 

Whichever of the seven of them that it was that was moving have settled down now, and Louis sighs in disappointment, his spine melting as he lies lax in Harry's lap, practically. "It felt like popcorn inside of my tummy? A little...," he says truthfully, hoping he doesn't sound crazy. Liam nods in understanding and Louis smiles, basking in all the attention as Harry nuzzles his nose into his neck, Jesy rising off the floor, settling down beside Louis. "You guys will get to feel eventually," Louis smiles, and Harry nudges the underside of his jaw a little roughly. 

"I'm first. I get to feel it first," he says in a serious tone, and Louis nods stiffly as Harry's hands find theirselves back in his shirt, circling around his tummy slowly, scrapping at it with his fingernails lightly. "Good," Harry murmurs, kissing the smooth curve of his chin. Louis swallows thickly and gives an awkward giggle as he realizes that everyone in the room is watching them. 

Sans Michael, who has returned to what appears to be The Teenage-Mutant-Ninja-Turtles. "Wicked...," he murmurs, watching the turtles do ninja things. "We should order pizza," he says, looking away from the screen, he looks surprised to see everyone so close to Louis, Harry's hands up his shirt and his body presses possessively against him. "What did I miss? I miss everything!," he groans, and Harry can suddenly feel Louis' tummy grumbling. 

"That wasn't a kick, I'm guessing," he says as Louis blushes hotly, shaking his head. "Is pizza good for you? From Stephanie's? They have the least greasy, most fresh ingredients," he says, and Louis nods quickly, his mouth already growing wet at the promise of Stephanie's pizza. 

"With anchovies and pineapples?," he asks, and Michael stands up to get the house phone from off the wall, the one they use for leisure use. 

"I'm going to get him his own...," Michael says, typing in the phone digits into the phone, putting it to his ear moments later. Louis turns to Jesy as Micheal starts to order, his accent growing thicker at the prospect of pizza. Louis taps at Jesy's prosthetic and she looks at him, even though she didn't feel it. 

"How are you doing in physical therapy?," he asks, and she sighs, shrugging her shoulders. "Is something wrong?," he asks in concern, and she shakes her head slowly. She puts her thumbs through the clip where it holds her leg in place and pops it off with a suction noise going through the room. "It doesn't look so bad," he smiles, and he's not lying. 

The three of them, him, Harry, and Jesy all have their share of battle wounds. Louis' arm, Harry's whole body, Jesy's arm and her leg. "They say that it's getting there, but it still sort of aches," she sighs , taking off the cloth wrap that goes on before the leg. Louis sighs in remorse for her. Things have been sort of crazy since they saw each other that last time the day Louis' watcher turned green. He hasn't seen Niall nor Zayn since that day either. 

But, things have definitely lightened after the climax of the Den started to go down. Harry healed from all of his injuries quite fast, considering how many organs ruptured. And Louis started to take some online university courses. They've all healed on some level, and the day he found out that he's pregnant was the day he realized that he's achieved total happiness. 

He can remember the day perfectly. And the ones before that; he had been sick every morning and sometimes throughout the days, depending how his nose and tummy reacted to certain smells.

✧

Harry rubs his back as he throws up in the toilet for what is the thirteenth morning in a row. He spits and heaves and his eyes are watering and he's over all very, very miserable. He can tell that Harry doesn't know what to do, and that he wants him to go to the hospital; but he knows that Harry knows that he doesn't like hospitals. He never liked hospitals before he met Harry, and he detests them now, only bad things seem to happen in them. 

But he feels like this might not be just an average, everyday cold or even the flu. And he doesn't want to test it, test anybody's health. So, after he finishes his heaving mess, he lets Harry help him up by the waist and guide him to the sink. He stands still as Harry readies his toothbrush, not putting a lot of toothpaste on it, he knows Louis doesn't like that, just by watching him. He takes the green and purple brush when Harry gestures for him to take it, and he starts scrubbing the nasty taste away. "You know...," Louis says with a mouthful of spit, which he spats out before he speaks again, "... I think I wanna go to the doctor's..."

Harry's eyes widen at that, and he tries not to act too surprised. "Really? You wanna - yeah, I think that's a good idea," Harry says, gnawing on his lower lip to try and keep from saying the wrong thing, which will steer Louis away from getting himself checked out. "Want me to make you an appointment?," he asks, pressing his front into Louis' back, nuzzling into the skin behind his ears. 

Louis' cheeks red at that, but Harry doesn't notice. Not does he feel the awkward change of the air. "I, um...," Louis stammers, setting the toothbrush on the counter. Harry hums in question, and Louis purses his lips. "I think you aught'a go to the drug store, before we go to the doctor's...," he murmurs, and Harry wraps his arms over his tummy. 

"Why's that? Aren't you suppose to go to the doctor before you get medicine?," he chuckles, and Louis just about rolls his eyes right out of his head. He elbows Harry a little, trying to get him to take the hint, but Harry is utterly oblivious. "What?," he huffs, rubbing at his side with a hand detached from Louis. 

"I don't need you to get any medicine at the drug store...," he murmurs, and Harry grunts in confusion. "Harry!," Louis laughs in exasperation. 

"What? Do you wants some gummy...," and his words die out as it clicks. The throwing up, the sensitivity to smells, the way Louis' tummy feels just that little but harder under his arms - "Oh, oh, oh, oh oh - y-you don't think... you don't think that... that..."

Louis cuts him off at that. "Yeah, yeah I do think... that... yeah... is it a problem?," he asks, furrowing his eyebrows together in concern. He yelps when Harry suddenly lifts him from his feet and carries him, they tumble into their room, laughing as the fall onto the bed, clutching each other. 

"No, no, no, no, no it's not a problem!," Harry breathes, clutching Louis so tightly. He just about bursts in tears looking at Louis, his beautiful soulmate who might be pregnant. "How - How long do you think...?," he whispers, kissing all over Louis' head. 

Louis starts giggling as Harry tickles him, he squirms away from Harry, but scoots right back. "I don't know," he laughs as Harry jabs at his sides with his fingertips. "I don't know, but I'm surprised it hasn't happened until now, with me numbe - oh. Oh. Oh...," Louis stops laughing, and Harry raises up quickly, looking him over in alarm. 

"What's wrong? Are you okay - Louis - "

"We might be dads...," Louis whispers, and Harry stops talking abruptly. "We could be dads to multiples right now...," he adds, realizing just what that might mean. He's freshly 19 years old and he could be pregnant with as many as 10 babies right here, right now. "Harry...," he whispers, intertwining their fingers together. Harry is 25 and he might not even be ready for that many. "We could be having so many babies...," he whispers, "... are we ready for that?"

Harry kisses his eyelids closed. "We are now"

After that, they have a brisk lunch. Louis imagines that Jade and Taylor probably suspect something, considering Harry made him eat all of his food, sans the eggs, and they were in the room. And as they leave the room, hand in hand, a Louis can hear them whispering. Louis tells him such, lightheartedly, and then something else strikes him. He uses his free hand to rest on his tummy, and he looks up at Harry. "Harry? How are we going to keep them safe? W-What if the smaller gangs try to do what Poe and Williams did and try to overthrow us?," he asks in terror, he barely notices Harry help him into his jumper and shoes. 

Harry sighs at his poor soulie's distress. He puts a hand on his back and opens the door for him. "That won't happen. Since the Merge, we have quadrupled in size and power. There isn't enough small gangs to add up and equal even half of what we have. We're completely safe," he says, opening the car door for Louis.

They ride in silence, their hands intertwined over the console. Harry rubs his thumb over the top of his hand ever so often, and he kisses it every now and again. When they arrive at the Gang's pharmacy, Harry gracefully tumbles out, jogging to Louis' side before the smaller man can even process it. "Thank-you," he smiles as Harry helps him down by his hand. They keep hold even when Harry has the door closed. 

Members of the Gang watch them walk by, but nobody stops them. Most of the people look sick, and, plus, they live near the Styles', it's not such a celebrity encounter to see them out anymore. Louis blushes as he and Harry get to the hygiene isle. "Can I help you, sirs?," says a cashier girl, Louis didn't even see her approach. He notices her hair is buzzed on one dude and swept over in a glide of blonde hair. Her name tag reads Natalie, and Louis smiles at her, pointing at the pregnancy tests. She jumps a little and nods. "Can I have your number?"

"Why?," Harry nuts in, and Natalie doesn't shrink back like most gang members do. He studies her face, and then it clicks, why she looks so familiar to him. "Natalie Thelma," he says, wrapping an arm around Louis. "What are you doing, working in a pharmacy?," he asks and she shrugs. 

"I was training to be a technician in the medical field even before mom died. I have to work my way up, I guess. I have no gang to take over, now," she shrugs. "Now. If you'll give me your number, I can point you to the right test. If you are a two or lower, then the white one is the one to use. If you are above a four, then using the white test will have it say you're pregnant, whether you are or not, because your human pheromone levels are naturally so high," she says, and Louis nods. He knew that. 

"Eight," he says before Harry can say anything, and Natalie's eyes widen. "Yeah, I know...," he blushes, bashfully falling farther back into Harry. He very near audibly preens as Harry pulls him closer. Natalie nods her head at that, shrugging her hair off her shoulder. Her hands move fluidly, grabbing the blue test package for sevens and up. "Thank-you," he murmurs, trying to hide the test. 

"Is that all you'll be needing?," she asks, and Harry nods stiffly, trying to hurry this along. People are starting to look curious, probably over the fact that the co-leaders of their gang are both talking with a worker around the pregnancy isle. "Okay, I'll check you out in isle seven," she smiles, and Louis nearly drops the test looking at her, and he wonders if his babies will look as much like him and Harry as Natalie seems to look like Thelma. 

Louis listens to Natalie after that, talking about neonatal things, and he doesn't notice how Harry has stiffened behind him until he has the test bagged up with the receipt and change inside. "What's wrong?," he asks without turning around. He doesn't make a sound as Harry turns him in his grip, pulling him so his face is to his chest. He doesn't give it a second after that, he lifts Louis into his arms and starts to jog out of the store. "Harry, what - "

The commotion outside startles Louis into silence. "Harry! Harry! Why are you leaving the pharmacy? Somebody reported to us that you were checking out the pregnancy tests?," shouts a man and Louis flinches at all of the cameras and people that have surrounded them. There is a gossip and need channel specifically for the gangs, and these pictures will be at the top of the head story. "Is Louis pregnant?," he asks, "Or are you pregnant?" Harry opens the car door and settles Louis in then, jogging to his side.

They both start laughing, only once they are on the road, on the way home, their hands intertwined. 

+

"I'm scared," Louis whispers. It's been seven minutes since he took the test. Three left, according to the box's instructions. Harry grabs his hand. 

"You shouldn't be. You'll be okay, it'll be okay," he smiles. He's so giddy, Louis has no idea. He's wanted to have a child with Louis for years now. "If you are pregnant, then I'll have Lloyd and Murs start with the yard, clearing everything out, cleaning the fence of any vines. Louis sighs at that. "And we'll turn the room in front of ours into the nursery. We'll paint the walls any color you want, we can pick out cribs together... baby clothes... baby shoes... pacifiers... nappies... baby coats and gloves... socks..."

"Times up," Louis gasps, and he lifts himself from between Harry's legs - they're both sitting on the floor - and clambers back into the bathroom. He resurfaces with the test between his fingers, upside down. He plops back down between Harry's legs and closes his eyes. "You do it," he mutters, and Harry takes it from him, not even caring he had to urinate on it. 

He waits several seconds, his blood pumping. This is the moment between carefree 25 year old to maturing parent. He takes a deep breath and flips it, surfacing confusion. "What does blue screen mean?," he asks, and Louis literally deflates. Harry sighs shallowly in his chest and nods, clutching Louis close as he sniffles. 

"Can you throw this and the box away... I'm going to go to bed...," Louis sniffles, and stands up, Harry can hear his feet running up the stairs. With what feels a lot like anger, Harry stands up. He walks to the bathroom with heavy feet and heart and throws the stick away violently. He snatches the box off the table then, and it catches his eyes. 

Blue - pregnant 

Pink - not pregnant

"Louis!," Harry shouts out, reeling backwards. 

+

Louis lays with Harry holding his hand a few hours later. How silly he feels, having mixed it up, looking at the screen in front of them. The doctor, Doctor Shelly, smiles and uses his fingers to make numbers pop up on each of the progressing organism. He stops and double checks. He smiles widely at a crying Louis and a blurry eyed Harry. "Congratulations, dads. You're having septuplets.

✧

And here they are again, present time. Louis is now four months along, and he currently feels like exploding. "I bet that's Alyssa kicking...," Louis murmurs. They decided to name the babies, and baby four, Alyssa, is notorious for beating Louis up from the inside. "Or Xavier," he adds. Both baby four and baby one have been caught on the sonogram violently kicking. 

Harry feels bad that Louis feels like this so early in the pregnancy. "At least the other bugs are playing nice," Harry says softly, using the nickname he picked up. Louis sighs, wincing at a particularly harsh jolt. Harry leans forward then, pulling Louis' shirt up to expose his tummy. "Alyssa Louise... or Xavier Daniel, you play nice in there. I know it's one of you. Think of daddy. Or think of your sisters and brother. They're going to have brain damage before they are even born!," Harry says, and Louis sighs as they actually settle down. Figures. 

"You saved me," Louis whispers, his hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat, "My hero" He smirks lazily, and Harry kisses on his tummy, whispering soft words to both Louis, and the seven little ones cradled inside of him. Louis finds that he's fallen asleep only when he wakes up around 2 hours later. Harry isn't there with him, but he's covered in a quilt and he can smell chicken and Parma ham being cooked, the sweet smell of mozzarella cheese mixed with it. He stands up sleepily and drapes the quilt over his shoulders, walking down the hall, down the steps. "That smells good," Louis murmurs, and Harry nearly jumps. 

"Thank you, love," Harry smiles, pulling the stuffed and wrapped chicken out of the oven. "I was just about to come up and wake you up. I've made a classic... will you be able to stomach it?," he asks in concern, putting the good on the stove, turning the oven off. 

"I think chicken with Parma ham will always be the exception. And I am really craving mozzarella right now," he says, his mouth watering drastically. He walks over to the good and twirls his fingers, making a small, cold tornado go over both of the chickens, cooking it automatically. 

"Cheater," Harry smirks, and Louis rolls his eyes at him, picking a chilled piece of flaky Parma ham off the top. 

+

"Harry... hush," Louis murmurs through clenched teeth. This is his fourth case of Braxton Hicks since he hit the 6 month mark seven weeks ago, and he knows that he just has to clench his teeth and Harry's hand and get through them. "Harry - God - ow!," he cries out, biting him lower lip painfully. 

Harry feels helpless, watching Louis squirm in pain. His hand feels like it'll fall off soon and it's a miracle he hasn't accidentally electrocuted him yet. Instead of talking like a moment ago ( repeating the words; 'breathe, breathe, deep breathes - just like me' ), he sits in silence and lets the false contractions take course. 

That is, until they realize that they aren't false. Louis hiccups and freezes as he feels the fluid pooling in his pants. He turns to Harry with wide eyes, growing panic. "W-What?," Harry sputters and Louis' eyes water. 

"I - ," Louis gulps, trying to stand up without help, but not being able to without a lot. Once he's up, Harry automatically zeros into the wet stains on the couch and on Louis' light pants. "I'm in labor," he gasps, clutching his stomach. "C-Call my mum - she'll meet us t-there!," he cries, allowing Harry to lead him to the door, where their keys and emergency labor bag is. 

Harry grabs the phone in his hand, but doesn't get on it until he has Louis settled in the car, the bag in the back. Jay answers on the seventh ring, and Harry is almost about to hang up when he sees that she's answered. "Hello, Harry, love. How's my baby? Did one of them kick again? Did I miss any milestones?," she gasps and Harry nearly laughs at the irony. 

"He's in labor. Meet us at the main gang hospital as soon as you can," he says quickly, putting the car in reverse. 

"Oh, dear! He's only seven months along!," she gasps, and Harry can hear a commotion in the background. "We'll be there in twenty, love you" she says quickly, and hangs up right after. Harry puts his hand on Louis' jumping leg as he drives. 

Louis is a sobbing mess by the time they arrive. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are red, his hair is wet and messy. And Harry finds him so beautiful. Doctor Shelly meets them at the door. Everyone in the gang knows that Louis is in labor right now. Everyone is on high alert to protect him, and the little ones. "Hello boys! Are you prepared to be dads just a wee but early?," he smiles and Louis wants to chop his head off. He really does. 

"I think it's be best if he got an epidural," Harry says quietly, and Doctor Shelly ushers them in. Louis has to have his hospital gown on before he can get his epidural, and once Doctor Shelly checks to see how far progressed Louis is, his mouth tilts. "What wrong?," Harry barks, and the doctor flinches. 

"He's already nine centimeters dilated. There is no time for any medication. These babies are coming. Right now," he says quickly, and Louis cries out as he feels one drop. "We've got to wheel him to delivery, ASAP," he says to himself, pressing some buzzer on the wall. Four buff men in scrubs rush in and Louis watches them fuzzily as they push his bed out of the room. He's acutely aware of his family standing outside his room, and he's fully aware of Harry holding his hand. "Scrubs, son," Doctor Shelly tells Harry, who is handed a blue set from one of the nurses. 

He has to let go of Louis' hand to put it on, and he whines in agony, reaching for him desperately. "It's okay, love," Harry promises as Louis' legs are pushed into the delivery contraption that holds his legs apart. "We're about to be daddies - "

"I have to push!," Louis cries, just as Doctor Shelly and the nurses slap their gloves on. "I need to push," he sobs, and the doctor nods, grabbing a chair to get into position.

"Just let your body do the work, son, it's in charge," he says, and the baby is crowning not three seconds later. Harry denies the suggestion of watching it, he stays by Louis instead, holding his hand as his nose scrunches and he delivers the first baby. It's baby four, Alyssa. She's barely there two moments before her watcher is clamped onto her tiny wrist and she's whisked away. 

The same thing happens with Xavier, then Joanna, then Maisen, then Ronan, then Colette and then Chase. Louis isn't crying by the end of it. His body is so tired. He's delivered 7 babies and 7 placentas in the course of one hour. With no form of pain relief. If he was a level 1 or 2, his body would probably be shutting down, but his is made for this. 

His family visits him around two hours after, and he and Harry are both so exhausted, Louis more than humans possible. But Doctor Shelly promised the babies would be brought to them soon. It's hours later, long after the Tomlinson clan left, when a knock wakes both Harry and Louis up from the sleep neither saw coming. The door opens, and in floods a parade of little baby pushers. 

"Oh," Louis whispers as they are left alone with their babies, all wrapped up in each other. 

Alyssa Louise has Louis' nose, and Harry's lip structure. Her hair is already a little on the dark side. Xavier David is a little bigger than her, and his eyes are open even though he can't see anything yet. His lips and nose look like Harry, and his jaw and eye shape favors Louis. Joanne Elizabeth, named after Johanna (Louis' mum) and Anne (Harry's mum) is an exact replica of Louis, literally. Maisen and Ronan look exactly alike, even though they all look really similar. They both have Harry's eye shape and lips and Louis' feathery hair texture, already. Colette Ethan looks like a mini Harry, and Louis bets that's what she'll end up as. He can hope. And last but not least is the only other boy, and the youngest, and the smallest; Chase Edward. He looks like he's half Harry and half Louis, just his brother and sisters. 

Louis smiles tiredly and kisses Harry's jaw quickly, not wanting to take his eyes off their babies for even one moment. "They're perfect. We make some good babies. I love you," he whispers, humming as Harry kisses his lips. 

"I love you, all of you," Harry responds, mentally preparing for the rest of their lives. "I really love you."


End file.
